Love and Restoration
by Aria Mirage
Summary: AU tale of Remy and Ororo as they meet at a clinic in New Orleans, and follows their developing relationship throughout. MAJOR AU. ** To Be Revised **
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**Author's Note: **This story takes place in an AU and though the X-MEN as we know them do not exist, there are still mutants in existence.

**6/2011 – **Wow, so . . . this fic was kind of a disaster, a horror. Which is why it took me nearly a year and a half to complete it. It was 'technically' my first fic and it's quite obvious I didn't know what the blazes I was doing. I cringe whenever I go back over it. I don't want to delete it, so I plan on trying to revamp and clean it up without demolishing it completely. I honestly got tired of it after chapter 12, but I **_refuse_** to leave a fic incomplete. So please, keep in mind that I was and still am a novice as you proceed. Thanks so much :D

Ashra**  
**

* * *

**- Chapter 1 -**

RESERVED FOR DR. ORORO MUNROE

Was what the sign read as Ororo pulled her black BMW M5 Sedan into her reserved parking space. _Thank God. They have finally gotten around to reserving a parking space for me I see. I will no longer have to walk three blocks to the entrance anymore. _Ororo had been working at Valhalla Psychiatry for only two weeks now, and all during those two weeks, today was the only day she would not have to search, to-no-avail, for an office parking space. _Mrs. Frost-Summers must have commanded them with an rod of iron to get it up this quickly, _Ororo thought_, when I left yesterday it had not been up. They could only have just finished it. _

Ororo smiled inwardly at the thought of her tough-as-nails mentor and friend Dr. Emma Frost. It had been Emma Frost-Summers that mentored and instructed Ororo on her path to becoming a psychiatrist, and it had also been her and her husband, Scott Summers, who graciously offered Ororo a position at their new fledgling office in New Orleans. Ororo had accepted the position eagerly, even though it meant relocating, and having to leave the apartment she shared with her closest friend Jean Grey. But honestly, how often did a person fresh out of medical school, get a job working for the renowned Summers' working in their new facility as one of the only three doctors employed at the office?

Jean had understood completely, and her 'sometimey' boyfriend Forge had been elated. Dr. Emma Frost and her husband had offered Ororo a choice between two of their facilities, one was located in Los Angeles, the other was a rather new establishment located in New Orleans and Ororo had accepted the latter. Forge worked at a governmental facility in Baton Rouge, where he designed and manufactured weapons, and accepting the position closer to his location had seemed ideal. Baton Rouge was still several hours from New Orleans by car, but now they would be able to see each other more often, and hopefully that would positively influence their sometimes unstable relationship.

Ororo gathered her briefcase and purse located in her passenger seat, and after one quick glance at her reflection in her rearview mirror, she exited her vehicle. After setting the alarm her car, she hastily made her way into the office.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N****:** This story takes place in an AU and though the X-MEN as we know them do not exist, there are still mutants in existence. This story is in the very beginning stages of development. I have a very general plot outline and list of characters, so please bare with me on this story [and while you do, R/R please!] Thank you and enjoy :D

**NOTES**_**: **Italics_ indicate thought

* * *

- ** 2 -**

"Well, good morning to you Ororo," Dr. Nathan Dayspring greeted Ororo pleasantly.

Ororo had just closed the door to her office, when Dr. Dayspring had knocked. Ororo happily figured this would be an everyday occurrence. Since the first day she joined the facility, Dr. Nathan Dayspring, who was one of the other three physicians at Valhalla, would enter her office everyday with a pleasant greeting such as this one. Not that she minded at all. On the contrary, it was a pleasant way to start off the work day. Being a psychiatrist, it didn't take long for the workday to get burdensome, especially with the abundance of seemingly cuckoo patients around. Not that she would ever admit as much, she was a professional after all. Those were secrets of the trade that people in her line of work kept to themselves. On top of that, Dr. Dayspring was an attractive man. Young, fit, educated, tall, and handsome. Standing somewhere around 6'5 Ororo guessed, plenteous brown hair, and brilliant blue eyes; additionally, from what Ororo had seen, he was also a kind individual. Always with a smile it seemed.

"Good morning to you as well, Dr. Dayspring," Ororo said in reply, taking the hand he had extended in greeting.

"I see they finally have your parking plaque up."

'Yes it does seem so, thankfully. I am sure Mrs. Summers had something to do with the speed in which it was put it up," she said smiling.

Dr. Dayspring lowered his head slightly and chuckled.

"Well that is Mrs. Summers for you," he agreed.

It was common knowledge to anyone who knew the Summers for any amount of time, that while Emma was a kind woman, that she was also firm and disciplined, especially when it came to matters of business.

"Speaking of which," Nathan continued, "she asked me to tell you that she would like to see you before she leaves. She is probably in the office foyer by now."

"Thank you Dr. Dayspring. I will go now," she spoke, setting down the patient files she had in her hand upon her meticulously organized mahogany desk.

She made to leave the office when he spoke, "Oh and Ororo?"

"Yes, Dr. Dayspring?" she asked curiously, turning around to face him.

He walked closer to her, "Please. Call me Nathan," he said looking her in her eyes smiling gently.

"Absolutely. Nathan it is then," she said smiling, looking at him. He smiled approvingly, as she left to meet her mentor, watching her impressive figure as she left the office. _Impressive she is indeed! _he thought watching her walk away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.**  
Author's Note:** This story takes place in an AU and though the X-MEN as we know them do not exist there are still mutants in existence. The chapters of this story are shorter because I have a feeling this will be a long story :D That being said there will be many chapters although they'll be shorter - Enjoy, _**AshraAstarte**_**  
Other Notes: **_Italics _indicate thought  


* * *

**- 3 -**

James "Logan" Howlett awoke suddenly to the sound of a ringing cell phone on his nightstand. He glanced groggily at the digital clock that was beside it noting the early hour. 

_Who in the hell?!_ he thought as he reached to pick up the phone.

"Logan here. Who is this?" he asked, voice huskier than normal from sleep, into the receiver.

A female automated voice spoke in reply, "You are receiving a call from. . . "Remy," the accented drawl said grudgingly. . . "at the New Orleans Correctional Facility. Do you wish to accept?" the automated voice continued. Logan sighed into the receiver,

"Yeah, sure."

"Thank you. One moment please," the voice finished. Suddenly the Cajun drawl was heard on the other end of the phone, "Logan?"

"Damn it LeBeau! What the hell ya do now, bub?!"

"Calm down, mon ami. Dis time, it ain't so bad, eh? Remy get arrested fo' bein' drunk an' disorderly las' night. Wan' y' to come and pick me up."

Logan rolled his eyes, "Hell. Be there in about twenty minutes."

"Oui. Merci," Remy replied, and Logan ended the call with the press of a button.

"Damn it!" he spat again, rising out of his bed. 

_When we get back, the Cajun and I are going to have a _'_come to Jesus meeting_', Logan thought as he prepared to pick up his friend from jail. . . yet again.


	4. Chapter 4

- **4 -**

Logan hopped into his Chevy Silverado and pulled out the driveway. He had been doing this a lot lately. Not because he had to drive to work. Not because he had to run errands, but because he had a friend who lately, seemed to get into even more trouble than he normally did. Logan made his way to the all too familiar jail to pick up Remy.

"Your out LeBeau! Your buddy is here to pick you up!" the guard said, opening the cell door.

He motioned for Remy to get out.

"Hopefully we won't see you in here again for a few weeks this time, at least!" the guard joked with Remy.

"Very funny, mon ami. Very funny," Remy replied, while feigning laughter.

He exited the cell and made his way to the guard who was gathering his belongings, noting the angry Logan glaring at him menacingly.

"Sign here Mr. LeBeau," another officer said, sliding a clipboard towards him.

"Alright. Your cleared to go LeBeau. See you soon," the officer said, smiling slyly at Remy.

"Merde. Some real comedians in dis place, non?"

Remy made his way out the automatic doors of the jail behind a highly annoyed Logan, and got into the truck.

"When is this mess gonna stop Gumbo? I'ma start leavin' ya there when you call!"

"I kno', I kno' mon ami. Remy ain't gon' do it no more. "

"Psh, that's what ya said all the other times too. Man! You even reek of alcohol!"

"Remy musta left his Ol' Spice in his cell, non?"

"Your in no position to try yer hand at being smart LeBeau."

"Oui. Oui," Remy said, throwing his hands up in surrender. "When we get to y' house Remy shower."

"Why can't I drop ya off at yer house?"

"Cuz . . . Anna prob'ly dere packin' de rest of her t'ings. Remy don' wan' see her. It was dat femme dat pissed me off on de phone las' night, dat's why I went drinkin'.

"Fine," Logan concluded, shaking his head, chuckling lightly.

* * *

Remy never got the chance to shower. As soon as he got inside he fell asleep almost instantaneously, on Logan's couch.

"Hmph. Sleep now bub. 'Cuz you got a rude awakenin' comin' to ya when ya do wake up," Logan growled lowly, smiling down mischievously at the lithe Cajun sprawled on his sofa, now fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **This story takes place in an AU and though the X-MEN as we know them do not exist, there are still mutants in existence. Again, the chapters of this story are shorter because I have a feeling this may be a long story :D I want the feeling to be that this is taking place over a long period of time. The chapters are short because they are kind of like...scenes, I guess. When the scene ends, the chapter ends so-to-speak. I know its a bit frustrating, I offer my sincerest apologies. Thank you for reviewing guys, enjoy, _AshraAstarte_

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

- **5 **-

"If you need anything while I am gone Ororo, simply give me a call. Our hotel number is on the card I just gave you, alright?"

"Yes Mrs. Summers, I assure you, I will be just fine. Dr. Dayspring and Dr. McCoy have been just wonderful to me. "

"Hmm . . . I believe that," Emma stated emphatically, "It seems you have garnered his attention already. Right, Ororo?" she said, her brightly red, lipstick stained lips forming a smirk.

"Who?"

"Nathan," Emma replied innocently.

Ororo rolled her eyes at her mentor's comment, "Please Mrs. Summers. You are so scandalous. I only met the man two weeks ago and you are already making erroneous assumptions."

Emma waved her hand dismissively at Ororo. "Remember Ororo. I am a seasoned psychiatrist, who if I remember correctly, taught a certain white-haired young lady, everything she knows. Trust me dearest, Dr. Dayspring is very much attracted to you."

Ororo pondered Emma's statement. There was no doubt that Emma was an incredibly brilliant psychiatrist. In med school the students had dubbed her 'Dr. Telepath', for she had an uncanny ability to discern people's thoughts and behaviors that was strange even for a talented psychiatrist. There had been talk for a while that she was indeed a mutant. A telepath. No one ever knew for certain though, and the query eventually became a moot point. Ororo was distracted from her thoughts by Emma's next statement,

"I have always thought it amusing Ororo, that you possess such an intelligent mind, a young but gifted psychiatrist you are - yet when it comes to issues of a romantic or intimate nature you seem, well . . . devoid of understanding. No offense. It seems that will have to be what I mentor you on next."

Ororo laughed at the statement, "If you say so. You are the genius Mrs. Summers."

"Will you ever just call me Emma?"

Ororo simply smiled in reply, she knew she did not have to refer to Emma as Mrs. Summers, but with her it was simply a matter of admiration and respect. Emma smiled warmly.

"Emma, we must leave darling. We will be late for our flight if we do not leave immediately," her husband Scott informed her, coming up to stand beside his wife. "Ororo. Are you sure you will be alright while we are gone?" he asked her concerned.

"Yes Mr. Summers, I will. Your wife has given me every number to every communication device possible," she said laughing. The two both joined in her laughter.

"I know you will Ororo," he said, "we have every confidence in you." Ororo smiled at the compliment.

"Goodbye then Ororo, we will be in touch."

"Sounds fantastic Mr. Summers. I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Buy me something nice!" she yelled after them, while they made their way to the luxury car the chauffeur was waiting to escort them in.

"We will!" they yelled in unison, before entering the car and driving off.

Ororo made to turn around and enter the office when she heard Emma yell from the rolled-down window of the car, "Ororo! This is so unlike me, with the trip I must have just forgotten. I meant to inform you, a gentleman called our office today. A potential patient. He should be coming in for a consult tomorrow. Kitty has him scheduled with the exact time, she will be coming to give you all the information. I just wanted to give you a heads up!"

"Thank you!" Ororo yelled back, waving.

Emma gave her one last smile and wave before winding the window back up, and the vehicle continued its leave. Ororo went back inside, looking at her wristwatch,

_Almost time for lunch._


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **This story takes place in an AU and though the X-MEN as we know them do not exist, there are still mutants in existence. I don't feel completely happy with this chapter, but maybe its just me. Eh, oh well! Thank you again to the reviewers, _Whateverlife & all the rest._ Enjoy, _AshraAstarte_

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought, translations are at the end of the chapter

* * *

**- 6 -**

_**Earlier that day . . . **_

"Remy. Wake up, garçon. Wake up."

Remy slowly turned over to face the villain who was waking him from his slumber, "Merde. What de hell y' doin' here pére?

"Logan called me, which is good seein' how you never do. Get up, I wan' to talk to ya."

Remy looked up at the culprit who had betrayed him with a scowl on his face, Logan just returned the gesture with a cunning smile, standing behind Jean-Luc, who was standing over Remy.

_Aw merde. Dis' ain' gon' be good_, Remy thought, sitting up on the sofa. His body was stiff and achy still from the less than pleasant nights sleep spent in a jail cell, not to mention his tall frame having been scrunched up uncomfortably on Logan's couch.

"Whateva de hell dis is pére, make it quick. Remy's head still killin' him."

"Its no more den you deserve garçon," Jean-Luc replied, taking a seat across from Remy,

"What the hell is ya problem? You got a good business, making good money. You ain't stealin' no more. Your young, and a hell of a good-looking boy. You always got de femmes around ya. Even after breakin' up wit Anna, it wasn't five seconds later you had another fille all over ya. Why you being an imbécile, fils?"

Logan stared at Remy silently, Remy snorted.

"Look," Remy said, running his hand through his long and dark auburn hair in frustration,

"Remy been actin' stupid, he kno' dat much. Jus' dis shit wid Anna . . . it got to me, alright? Remy ain' gon' do it no more, I already tell Logan de same t'ing. Wid Anna leavin' de house fo' good, t'ings be much better for Remy, non?"

Remy apologized quickly, hoping to get this whole thing over with quick. He didn't want to be in for another of Jean-Luc's infamous lectures.

"Ya damn right Remy. But this time, we are gonna ensure ya keep ya word son."

"What de hell dat suppose' to mean?" Remy asked confused.

Logan and Jean-Luc looked at each other for a moment and turned back to look at Remy. Jean-Luc started,

"Son, you been through a lot in ya young life. Always storing the bad stuff up inside of ya. I don' care how strong a man is, it ain't long before that stuff starts to affect him. This thing with Anna, just the last straw I think. Logan and I agree son, you need to seek some help. Talk to somebody."

Logan and Jean-Luc waited for the reaction.

Remy looked at them amusingly, then laughed, "You ain' serious?! Remy don' need not'ing of de sort. Remy don' do dat kind of t'ing."

"The hell ya ain't Gumbo. You ever see that show "_Intervention"_? Well, your on it, sans the camera man. We already have it planned out. Henri can look after the bar on the days ya go. He's been doing it most of the time anyway since ya bein' carryin' on and what not."

Logan shifted in his seat, pausing before continuing, "Listen, when I was in Baltimore, I talked to a doctor lady. . ." Logan's eyes suddenly became downcast as he shifted nervously in his seat, as he always did when his past was brought up. There was a moment's pause before he continued on,

"Ya know, about my family and the Weapon X business I went through. To tell ya the truth, that wasn't much like me either Cajun, but whoever the hell she was . . . helped me a lot. And believe-you-me, you need it bub."

Logan motioned at Jean-Luc, pointing at him,

"Yer pa here done already talked to Reverend Wagner at his church, and the man had lists of counselors and services and what not that help people in his congregation. There's some new place down on Andry and Aris called 'Van Halen' or something like that. Supposedly, top-notch. We made you a consultation for tomorrow. Shoot, we were lucky too, thankfully someone rescheduled and we got their time slot."

Remy looked at them in shock.

"De hell?! You ain' even say not'ing to Remy?!"

"We just did," Jean-Luc spat sternly.

"Pére . . . " Remy started, Jean-Luc cut him off abruptly,

"No Remy. Your doing this. If anyone should complain, it should be me, 'cause I'm paying for it. Henri will watch the bar on days you go. Tomorrow is the consult, if you feel something is amiss we'll seek an alternative, but you are going to the consult tomorrow. Don' forget son, I'm de only reason you ain't in more legal trouble than you are now. Its been me and me only dat has kept you from serving the time you should for your repeat offenses. I don't wanna have to threaten ya son with consequences, I love ya too much, so please don't make me. Go to the consult."

The finality of the situation was clear.

_Merde. _Remy sighed and lowered his head. The truth of his father's words resonating with him. _Its jus' a consult. Remy ain' goin' back after dat. Remy t'ink of somt'ing. Its de least I can do though, fo' causin' so much grief. _

"Oui," Remy replied lowly.

Jean-Luc came up and gave him a hearty slap on the back. "Alright son! Good form."

The mood lifted a bit as Remy conceded ruefully. Logan and Jean-Luc secretly taking pleasure in Remy's discomfort. After all, he'd given them hell the last couple months.

"Trust me LeBeau. If you get a doctor that was like mine in anyway, it won't be so bad. Not so bad at all. Hey, can't say I didn't enjoy the sessions, she was. . . well. . . you just wouldn't believe it. Never seen a more stunning woman in all my life! Didn't have that many sessions with her, cause I left Maryland, but damn. . ."

"Yeah, but wid how t'ings goin' fo' me lately . . . Remy prob'ly get a dried up spinster or some baldin' beer-bellied doc so's dey can piss Remy off."

"You never know son, Lady Luck has always been very good to ya."

"Prob'ly cuz he got in her draws," Logan muttered none to quietly under his breath. They all three broke out in raucous laughter.

* * *

Translations

Garçon - boy

Why you being a imbécile, fils - Why you being a fool, son?

* Quick note: Logan did incorrectly refer to _Valhalla Psychiatry_, as '_Van Halen_' lol. Don't you just love Logan? *


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER: **I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **First off, _Acadian Angel _- your review was so awesome. It completely dissolved the anxiety I felt about chapter 6 & its become my favorite chapter so far. If you write the way you review, you'd be a slamming author =) Thanks for that! Thanks to everyone whose been reviewing, I love you guys :D I know its taking awhile to get to the 'main attraction', but I don't want to rush it, I want everyone to enjoy the ride and watch how the magic takes place. It'll come soon enough, hang in there w/me. I actually think the 'consult' takes place in the next chapter. Ooh wee! Review, review, review please, it motivates me to write! Enjoy ~ AshraAstarte

**NOTES: **_Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 7 -**

Ororo had just slipped on her bathrobe and was preparing to bathe when her cell phone went off. Reaching into her bag she picked up her phone and looked at the screen which read: Forge; with his picture displayed. She answered the phone, "Hey sweetheart," Forge greeted her.

"Hello Forge."

"How was work today?" he asked her.

"It was good. It has been practically everyday since I arrived here. They finally got my parking plaque up," she sung into the phone.

Forge laughed on the other end.

"That's good. Getting along well with the other doctors?"

"Surprisingly yes. I thought being the novice and the only female doctor at the facility that they would give me a hard time, but they have not at all. As a matter of fact, they have been very kind to me. Dr. Dayspring has been a very helpful colleague, showing me the ropes so to speak, and Dr. McCoy is the most warm-hearted man I have ever met. Which, is a surprise because he is literally a genius, he has a string of letters after his name. I thought he would be arrogant, but he is the exact opposite. So far, so good," she replied.

"That's great Ororo. Really great. I am glad your transitioning easily, and even more glad your closer to me now."

"I am also love. How is everything down at "TOP-SECRET" in Baton Rogue," Ororo asked jokingly.

He laughed and answered, "I can't complain. And I can't enumerate either."

"How did I know?" Ororo said sarcastically.

"So I am coming up to see you Saturday or Sunday. I want to take you out. Spend a couple days with you or something, depending on what they need me to do down here. Sound good to you?"

"Of course Forge. I would love that. I miss you."

"I miss you too Ororo. I love you. Very much."

"I know. Love you too," she said back, "Bye Forge."

"Bye Ororo. See you soon," and with that she hung up.

She stopped and looked around her apartment. There were still unpacked boxes scattered around, but the bathroom, kitchen, study, and bedroom had been completed and looked great. She had watered all her house plants after she came in from work today, when she noticed signs of neglect on them. They were already looking more lively. She still had the living area to arrange, and some odd and end things to put away, but for the most part she was finished, and if she had to say so herself, it looked marvelous.

She looked at the two pictures that were on her nightstand by the bed, one was of her and Charles at one of his mutant awareness events, the other was of her and Jean at their college graduation. She had called Jean earlier, to see how she was doing. Jean and her had gone to med school together, though, Jean was studying pediatrics. It was difficult to leave Jean and move to New Orleans, but they couldn't live together forever, and there was no way she could pass up the opportunity the Summers' had offered her. They talked frequently still, and made plans to visit each other as soon as their respective schedules would allow. _I need to phone Charles as well_, she reminded herself_. _She looked at the picture of him and her again. _I love you and miss you dad._

She shook her head, trying to swallow down the feelings of homesickness she felt at the thought of her friend Jean and her adoptive father. She returned to her bathroom to draw water for her bath, distracting herself before she started crying. While waiting for the tub to fill she laid out what she was planning to wear to work tomorrow, checking to see if anything needed pressed or ironing. Ororo was what some people would describe as 'anal retentive', but that was just how she was.

_Bra, blouse, slip, skirt, underwear, pantyhose, heels, earrings, hair clips, _Ororo mentally checked off, organizing her outfit down to the smallest of details_. Hmm. . . everything is prepared then! _

She turned off the water and stepped into the tub, _I need to review for that consult tomorrow before bed_. She made a mental note of it and proceeded to relax in her tub, readying herself for work tomorrow.


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: ** This story takes place in an AU and though the X-MEN as we know them do not exist, there are still mutants in existence. I love the reviewers so much: _Whatever - life_, _Charity - Flare_, and all the rest! Gosh, you guys make my day. So since I love the readers/reviewers so much, I decided to update fast, so that we can get to the 'good stuff' which we will begin in the next chapter. Yeah, I told ya reviewing is very motivating. Enjoy, and don't forget [ review please :D ] _- AshraAstarte_

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 8 -**

The alarm clock had woken Remy up. He quickly pressed the 'off' button and rubbed his face. The sleep had definitely done him well. After he had left Logan's house last night he had immediately gone to his house and collapsed. He now sat up in bed and looked around his bedroom,

_Ha. It seems so empty now, _he concluded looking around at the bedroom, now vacant of Anna's belongings. She still had a few things in the house, but very few. He decided he would gather them up in a box for her, so it would be easy for her to access it the next time she came, but that would have to be after he came back from this damned consult! He rubbed his face with his hands again.

_Ugh, betta get dis over wid. _

He got out of bed and prepared to shower, reminding himself to put in his contacts when he finished showering. He didn't want to scare the doctor with his unique red and black eyes. Only his family and close friends had seen his true eye color, and he had still yet to meet a person who could meet his gaze directly for any amount of time. As a child he had been called "Le Diable Blanc" for his so-called 'devil' eyes. Ironic, his mockers called him the 'devil', when last time he checked, mocking people was devilish too. _Guess dey didn't see de irony_, he thought amusingly. But it was no time to dwell on the past. He glanced at his clock again, he had less than two hours before his consult, all he knew was it was with some doctor named . . . Munroe.

* * *

_**At Valhalla Psychiatry . . .**_

"Hello Dr. Munroe, how are you this morning?"

Ororo's chipper secretary Kathryn "Kitty" Pryde greeted Ororo.

"Hello Kathryn. To tell you the truth, I am surprisingly. . . refreshed this morning. And you?" Ororo returned, just as chipper. That bath had worked wonders.

"I am good doctor. Oh, here is the information on the Mister … uh, LeBeau, who is coming in this morning," she handed Ororo the information she'd prepared for the consultation.

"Thank you Kathryn."

"I'll be sure to send him to you when he arrives, 'kay?"

"Thanks again Kathryn," Ororo said smiling and made her way to her office, before she reached the door she spotted Dr. Dayspring and Dr. McCoy talking in the corridor.

"Ororo!" Nathan called to her, walking towards her, motioning Hank to follow.

"Dr. Day -- I mean - Nathan. . . good morning to you. And you, Dr. McCoy," she said nodding to him.

"Just Hank please, Miss Munroe," Hank said smiling.

"Well then I insist you call me Ororo," she challenged politely.

"I acquiesce," he agreed.

"Ororo . . . will you join Hank and I for lunch today?" Nathan asked pleadingly.

"Um. Well. If I'm available I would love to. Stop by my office before you two head to lunch. If I am not busy, I would be honored to."

"Sounds great," he replied, smiling brightly. "Have a good day Ororo."

"The same to both of you," she said before she entered her office, them walking away as well.

* * *

_Oh wow! _Kitty thought as she watched the tall, dark, and handsome gentleman make his way to the receptionist's desk, where she motioned for him to go to Kitty.

_If Piotr and I weren't engaged…_

"Pardon moi, chére . . . uh, de receptionist tol' Remy to come back here. I got a consult t'day wid a doctor by de name of Munroe?"

She didn't need to look at the schedule to confirm, not that she could have tore her eyes away if she did.

"Uh. Yes. Yes, of course," Kitty stammered, looking at the most handsome man she was sure she had ever seen. A handsome man who was speaking to her, a smirk appearing on his face. He was obviously use to this kind of reaction from women when they saw him.

"Uh. Who is Remy? If he has accompanied you, he will have to remain in the waiting area."

He chuckled, "I'm Remy chére. Remy LeBeau." He offered his hand, which she took gladly. _  
Should have looked at the scheduling after all_, she thought, embarrassed.

"Um . . . Dr. Munroe is in her office. You go down the corridor and her office will be the last one on the left. Her name plaque is on the door. I will call her and let her know your coming down."

_Hmm . . . de doctor is a 'her'. Jus' like Remy t'ought . . . I got a spinster for a shrink._

"Merci," he said, and made his way down the corridor.

Kitty gawked at him one last time before picking up the phone and getting Ororo on the line. . .


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **Thank you reviewers: Whatever-life, Sara, Lana, Razzoo, Daddygal, and LalaLamb, and the spectacular Ruby Sunrise, who has authored some of my favorite FF fics herself. Your reviews are greatly appreciated! So here is the 'consult' chapter…it would have been up sooner but something was wrong with the site's document uploader. Please forgive me for any inaccuracies as far as psychiatry goes. I have taken one psych class my whole life so bare w/me. I googled some pertinent information but that was all. I have obviously molded it to fit my ideas/plot. Enjoy & review please - _AshraAstarte_

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought, translations at end of chapter

* * *

**- 9-**

* Knock, Knock *

Ororo heard the knock on her door and hesitantly looked up. Jarred from her deep concentration on the patient file she was currently investigating. She swiftly rose to answer the door. She opened her door expectantly and almost gasped audibly out loud at what she saw. . .

_HE. IS. BEAUTIFUL._

She closed her opened mouth; recovering quickly, praying he hadn't noticed. "Mr. LeBeau I presume," she spoke coolly, extending her hand. "I am Dr. Ororo Munroe."

_Dear! . . . God!_ Remy thought, staring at the woman whose hand he had grasped and raised to his lips. _Remy's eyes. . . dey must be deceivin' him! _

He was suddenly reminded of Jean-Luc's comment yesterday...

_Jean-Luc: __"You never know son, Lady Luck has always been good to ya." _

Remy smiled inwardly at the memory, _Madame Luck has outdone 'erself on dis one! Mon Dieu, Remy neva seen a mo' beautiful femme. . . _

His breath had caught in his throat, and he felt as if he were suffocating a bit.

He studiously traveled her lovely form with his eyes, appraising her as it were. She was dressed in a neat, starched, button-up blouse that was colored a dark gray. The blouse was tucked inside of the black pencil skirt she wore, that ended slightly below her knees. His eyes traveled down her smooth legs, covered by her flesh-toned hosiery, down to her black stilettos. _Hmph. . . spinsters mos' certainly don' wear _dose, he thought delightedly. _Man, was Remy so far off in his firs' presumptions_.

His attention went to her stunning heart-shaped face, and his pulse quickened. Her skin was smooth and flawless. Its sable color unexaggeratedly luminous in its glow. Her nose was delicate and perky. He quirked a smile, as he observed her lips - full, pouty, and naturally rosy. So enamored was he with her lips that he had surprisingly failed to notice her unique hair color. The pure white hair she owned was pulled into a large, stylish bun at the base of her neck, his eyes widened at the beautiful contrast. They widened further as he took note of her eyes. Her sparkling eyes where large and beautiful, topped off by dark lashes that were long and luscious. The stunning blue almost mystical in appearance.

_Mon Dieu. . . topazes. De femme's eyes are blue topazes fo' God's sake!_

Remy froze, amazed at their beauty. By her beauty. When his mouth suddenly felt unusually dry, he realized his mouth must have been agape for quite some time. He licked his own lips, desperately trying to dredge up some saliva in his now cotton-dry mouth.

He cleared his now slightly moistened throat, "Oui, ma chére. I'm Remy LeBeau," he said bowing slightly, a pleased grin on his face; his hand still holding her own. He noticed her hands, hands that were soft and supple. _Manicured nails too, Remy like a femme dat take care of 'erself._

"It is a pleasure," she said, hesitantly taking back her hand from the soft lips of Mr. LeBeau.

"Non, ma chérie. De pleasure is **all **Remy's," he responded lasciviously.

Ororo cleared her throat, "Yes, well. . . welcome. Please, come in Mr. LeBeau."

He stepped inside, still gawking at her while she closed the door, as he proceeded to take a seat in front of her desk. She walked over to her own leather chair behind her desk and sat down, but not before Remy had the chance to admire her pleasantly riveting figure before it became obscured by the desk. Tall and statuesque, full breasts, petite waist, legs that seemed to stretch on forever. Curvaceous and voluptuous.

_Like a Coca-Cola bottle_, Remy thought looking at her ample hips. He didn't even noticed he had licked his lips, hungrily.

_Bonne puissant de Dieu. . .  
_

"Well Mr. LeBeau," she started as she pulled her seat up, "I will not be taking up much of your time this morning. This will be just a brief consultation. I will explain to you a bit about us here at Valhalla, and a bit about myself and what my professional services can offer you."

Remy slouched comfortably in the chair, "Oui. Remy very interested in hearin' wha' y' can offer 'im Dr. Munroe," he countered in his sultry Cajun drawl, winking at her to emphasize his point. He laughed inwardly when he saw her fidget nervously at the not-to-subtle insinuation. She took a moment to inwardly collect herself.

_Now act professional Ororo. You are the psychiatrist here. _

Ororo continued on, ignoring his comment, "At the end of this consultation, if you find that you are uncomfortable or have doubts, please feel free to voice your concerns. There is no obligation here. Whether you want our services here at Valhalla is completely at your own discretion Mr. LeBeau. If you desire to continue with us after this consultation, you may call our office and we will start the process of regularly scheduling you as a patient here. "

He straightened up slightly in his leather seat, "Tell Remy Mrs. Munroe, y' be my psychiatrist if Remy decide he wan' be here?"

"I cannot say for certain," she answered slowly, thinking about the question, "In all likelihood yes, the other psychiatrists here at Valhalla already have several patients they attend to. I am the newest addition here at the facility, and I do not have a large number of patients at this time."

"Fo' dat Remy is pleased Mrs. Munroe." He paused, "It is 'Mrs.' Munroe, right chére?"

"Uh, no. It is not," she answered politely, "it is Miss Munroe or Dr. Munroe - whatever you prefer Mr. LeBeau. At Valhalla they usually like our patients to refer to us by our proper titles; to maintain a level of professionalism, but if you feel more comfortable referring to me by my first name, Ororo, that will fine with me. Just do not tell my superiors," she said smiling.

He grinned. "I won' tell ma chére." He crossed his heart, assuring her of his promise. She smiled sweetly.

"Dat's a beautiful name y' got chérie, but y' did all de schoolin' an' hard work to get y' title an' Remy respects dat. So fo' dat reason, I call y' Dr. Munroe…for now," he added. She smiled warmly, both of them silent for a moment.

He inquired of her, "Wha' y' name mean chére? 'Roro. Wha' it mean?"

"It means 'beauty'."

Remy stared at her appreciatively,

"Dat be de perfect name fo' y' Dr. Munroe, if I do say so m'self. Y' are de very personification of y' name chérie."

"Thank you," Ororo said quickly, looking down. He smiled, surprised by her obvious bashfulness.

"Remy don' t'ink he need no mo' time t' decide," he said loudly, matter-of-factly. "I t'ink Valhalla be de perfect place fo' Remy, non?"

Ororo abruptly lifted her head, startled, "So soon Mr. LeBeau? Are you certain?"

"Jus' Remy chére, an' yes, Remy is certain. Lets jus' say, Remy enjoy de atmosphere, non?" He smirked at her, she blushed slightly, finding him extremely charming…"I jus' tell de fille at de desk on de way out righ'?" He looked at her.

"Yes - yes of course. If you are certain then," she replied, still shocked at his sudden decision, "That will be exemplary. Here, please take this," she said handing him a thick folder she had gotten out of one of her desk drawers. On it was a picture of the exterior of the building.

"In it are various pamphlets and brochures detailing our facility and what we provide here. It also gives information on our staff, cost, et cetera. Please take a look over it. If you do happen to change your mind, just call our office."

He nodded in acknowledgment.

"If that is all then Mr. LeBeau, Mrs. Pryde will be scheduling your next visit."

"She de fille dat tol' me where y' office was?"

"Yes sir. That would be Mrs. Pryde."

"Bien. . . I see y' soon den ma chére," he answered slowly, the very thought of it delighting him profusely. He stood up, readying to take his leave, "G'bye Mademoiselle Munroe," he said, looking her in the eyes, as he took her right hand and kissed it tenderly once more before leaving.

"Good day to you, Mr. LeBeau," she said, not looking at him, dropping her freed hand to her side. He slowly slinked out of her office, but not before flashing her one last trademark smile, his cute boyish one.

When he had exited her office, she leaned against her door and exhaled deeply.

_Fascinating!_ she thought. _Absolutely fascinating._

_

* * *

_Translations:

Bien - good

_Bonne puissant de Dieu _- Good God Almighty_  
_


	10. Chapter 10

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **Thank you very much to everyone who has been reading and reviewing! I appreciate it greatly, it is very encouraging. My goal is to update once a week. I will try my best to stick to that, of course things come up & I have been more preoccupied lately, but I'll try to manage a chapter a week. *Crosses fingers* Not much to this chapter, you've gotta have a few that just simply progress the plot. This, unfortunately, is one of those, sorry :D I am, however, excited about some juicy upcoming chapters so keep a look out for those *winks* Enjoy, Ashra_**  
**_

**NOTE****S**_**: **__Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 10 -**

Ororo was sitting at her desk, the papers she was supposed to be looking over were left forgotten while she sat deep in thought. Her flawless, long legs were crossed as she sat, gazing out her office window where the afternoon sun was shining brightly, absently clicking her pin.

*Click-click. Click-click. Click-click. Click-click.*

She never noticed. All her thoughts were on the gentleman that had left her office a few hours ago, she could still smell the scent of cloves and cigarettes in her office, the scent he himself had brought in. It stilled lingered in the air, to her delight. She breathed it in deeply. Savored it.

_What a fascinating gentleman he was_, she thought as she stared and continued clicking. She replayed their consult over and over, finding new things each time that made her heart flutter, just a bit. Like that accent of his, _Definitely not an English teacher_, she thought humorously, remembering the way he spoke of himself in the third person. The corners of her mouth formed a small smile as she thought of his look and demeanor. _So darkly handsome and mysterious_, _with a pearly smile to die for. _She sat up straighter in her chair, absently looking down at her unfinished work, visions of rakish auburn hair, dark hypnotizing eyes, and succulent lips dancing in her head. It was only when her door creaked open slightly and she heard someone calling her name, was she pulled from her dream-like state,

"Ororo?"

"Hm?" she answered distractedly, still not facing the speaker.

"Are you going to have lunch with Dr. McCoy and I?" Nathan asked, slightly concerned.

"Oh!"

She glanced at her wristwatch in surprised shock. "Dear Lord!" she laughed lightly, "I am so very sorry Dr. Dayspring. I - I must have been daydreaming."

He stepped further into her office, a smile on his face, "Its alright Ororo, I knocked four times, I didn't want to come in uninvited, but when you didn't respond --"

"No, no, its fine," Ororo interrupted, "it is a good thing you did. Who knows how long I would have been sitting here."

"I couldn't allow that now, could I Ororo, you have to accompany me to lunch, remember?"

She smiled, "It would be my pleasure, Nathan." She said his name emphasizing it, acknowledging his request for her to call him by his first, less formal, name.

"Will Dr. McCoy be joining us?" she asked while gathering her things.

"I'm not sure," Nathan said, watching her close the door to her office, "he was on the phone with his wife when I went to see if he was still going. He knows the spot, if he is coming he will know where we are."

* * *

"How are things going for you at Valhalla Ororo? Is it meeting all your expectations?" Nathan asked while they sat on the patio of the restaurant where they dined.

It was a beautiful day in New Orleans, perfect for lunching outside.

"Almost to the point where it is too good to be true," she said, looking down at her plate, "With it being my first time employed as a psychiatrist, I have to admit, I was anxious. I know the Summers' very well, and I was encouraged that the facility was owned by them, but certainly you could understand that I had my worries still. I was very nervous, coming in with other, more, experienced doctors."

He nodded in agreement, "I do. I was a rookie once," he said smiling.

She smiled in return, "You, Dr. McCoy, and the Summers' have made being a rookie much easier for me."

"Well your reputation proceeds you Ororo. Emma has told us all about your excellence at John Hopkins, and your, what was it again? Graduating magna cum laude at that?!"

"My classes were easy," Ororo joked humbly.

"Beautiful and humble," Nathan said softly. Ororo said nothing at his compliment, just smiled uncomfortably. She took a sip of her lemon water that was now lukewarm.

"Emma also told me your not completely alone down here," he continued, "she mentioned you have a friend who lives close by?"

"Yes. That is partially correct," Ororo said, glad for the change in topic, "My good friend Forge. He lives in Baton Rouge, where he works as a weapons contractor."

"And by friend do you mean. . . boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Ahhh. . . I knew you had to have one somewhere around," Nathan said, nodding his head slowly. He stayed silent, slightly bristling at her answer, also hoping she would further enlighten him about this "Forge" when Dr. McCoy walked up, joining them.

"Dr. McCoy!" Ororo said, standing up to give him a brief hug. "Glad you could join us!"

"So am I Ororo. Sorry I'm late," he apologized," I am practically famished ." He smiled at them both.

"I came to ask you if you were still going, but you were on the phone with Cecilia," Nathan explained.

"No worries, my friend. I understand."

Ororo was mostly quiet the rest of lunch, a bit ashamed at Nathan's mention of Forge. She had gotten back together with him three weeks before her move to New Orleans, yet for some odd reason she had been hopelessly intrigued by the Mr. LeBeau who had came into her office earlier that day. It was that fact that had made her feel a hint of shame. If she was going to be this man's psychiatrist, she knew she had better get her act together when she was around him. She'd never had to deal with something like. . . this. . . before.

At the end of lunch, Nathan agreed to pay for everyone's meal, even at the discouragement of Hank and Ororo. She drove her own car back to the office, opting not to ride with Nathan on the way to lunch, much to his disappointment. She drove slowly behind the vehicles of Nathan and Dr. McCoy, she still had trouble finding her way around downtown New Orleans, especially during the lunch rush. Her mind returned to her work, she still had two patients to see before the day was over.


	11. Chapter 11

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **Thank you to Acadian Angel, Brazos, and Hall for reviewing and reading! Love you guys :D Anyways, I wanted to update a little early because unfortunately this chapter is a bit of a filler as well & I don't really like it. However, the next chappie (which I am very excited about) will get back to the 'meat' of things *laughs maniacally*. Enjoy - _AshraAstarte_

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 11 -**

"Mon frére!"

Remy looked up from the bar to see his older brother walking towards him, a half-smile on his face. "How's it goin' lil' brother?" he asked, slapping Remy enthusiastically on the shoulder. They were still separated by the bar Remy was behind, wiping shot glasses.

"Everyt'ing bien Henri, why y' ask?"

Remy arched one eyebrow up at his brother suspiciously, "Wha' I can't ask my brother how he's doing now?"

Remy just continued to stare at him, while he looked at Remy blankly. "Fine," Remy replied, waiting for Henri to ask what he knew he truly wanted to.

"Sooo, how did the meetin' with your shrink go?"

_Finally, he asked_, Remy thought.

"Jus' fine Henri," he said blandly. Nosiness did not become Henri, he knew the primary reason he was asking, was so he could blab about it to their father later. Remy hadn't had a chance to speak to Jean-Luc since the staged 'intervention' at Logan's house two days ago.

"Pére said you was worried about getting a spinster or somethin'," Henri said laughing. "Well. . . did ya?"

Remy thought back to his Dr. Munroe, and smiled brightly.

"Whats so funny Remy?" his brother asked, looking at him confused.

"Non, non, not'ing," Remy said waving his hand dismissively. His mind had not been restful since his consult with her. He just couldn't shake his thoughts of her. What he had felt, and how he had stood practically paralyzed when he had first caught sight of her that day. He shook his head in disbelief, mostly disbelief at himself.

"Hey LeBeau," a black-haired man greeted Remy at the bar, "Lemme get a 'Jager Bomb' please."

"Oui." Remy went to prepare the man's drink. He slid it over to the waiting man, while Henri came around the bar,

"Lemme take over for a little bit Rem, go take a breather, I'll watch the bar."

Remy smiled, "Y' gettin' too comfortable mon ami, y' forget whose bar dis is?" Remy asked smiling.

He playfully threw the bar towel at Henri. "Hey, I've been getting a lot of practice lately, I actually like it. You better be glad too, I'm the one that's gonna be doin' it when ya gotta go to the shrink. Maybe once and for all they can confirm for us you're well and truly a loon," he teased Remy.

Remy flashed him his signature cock-sure grin while flipping him off, and went outside in the alley behind his establishment. He sat down on the concrete steps that led to the back door of the bar, and fished a cigarette out of the pack.

He searched his pant's pockets, "Damn," he hissed quietly, he'd forgotten his lighter in his duster that was hanging up inside. He carefully scanned the alley, making sure that no one was around to see him, and quickly charged the end of the cigarette, where it briefly glowed magenta until orange embers replaced it. He put the cigarette to his lips, leaning back slightly, feet crossed at the ankles and inhaled deeply. He exhaled. White smoke curling from his lips. Flowing tendrils of white smoke. _White tendrils_, he thought, his mind going back to how a little piece of white hair unknowingly had escaped the bun **she **had worn low on her neck. He smiled at the memory.

_Remy never seen not'ing - EVER - dat as beautiful as dat Munroe femme_, he thought to himself, shaking his head in sheer disbelief again. He flicked a few embers off the end of his cigarette. He pictured how regal she had stood before him, when she'd first opened the door. How regal and poised she had sat behind her desk

_She definitely be one of an' __**only **__kind_, he reasoned to himself. He went to lift his cigarette to his lips a third time, only to find it had withered down to about two inches. He threw it down, crushing it with his foot, arms on his knees, hands clasped together and continued his thinking. Suddenly he heard the back door creaking open and looked back to see Logan peeking through the opening.

"Logan," Remy said, getting up so he could get through.

"Yer brother said ya were out here, I just got off work, wondering if ya wanna play poker or something."

"Oui, Remy be dere in a minute mon ami." Logan nodded and went to go back inside, but stopped, "Oh yeah! How did it go at Van Halen?"

Remy snorted, "Y' mean 'Valhalla' mon ami?" Remy corrected chuckling._ Van Halen, mon Dieu. . .  
_

"Imagine, the third person talking Cajun, correcting someone's speech," Logan teased, smiling.

"Yeah. Sure mon ami," Remy said amused. "Everyt'ing was good mon ami, got another appointment, in a day or so, I t'ink."  
Remembering it made him oddly gleeful.

"How was the doc?" Logan asked.

"She alrigh'," he answered, not wanting to divulge. For some reason, he didn't want to reveal anything about the. . . woman. . . he had just met.

"She?" Logan asked, "So ya gotta woman doctor?"

"Oui, a femme. Now lets go play, non?" He motioned for Logan to go inside, while he followed close behind him.

_Why's the Cajun so tight-lipped about the consult, he didn't tell Henri much about it either, _Logan wondered.

* * *

Remy was so distracted during the poker game, he almost lost a few of the rounds. Almost. He still won every round they played, but not with the ease he usually did, and not with his usual arrogant trash-talk. Even though he still played better at his worst, than most people did at their best, it was still strange. He had a silly smile on his face the entire time, like he was remembering something funny.

* * *

"What was goin' on with ya tonight Gumbo?" Logan asked, sitting in his seat, draining his beer. The other players had long since abandoned the game. After all, you can't play when all your money has been taken. "Remy jus' tired, lot of t'ings on his mind, non?"

"Like what?" Logan asked, but was interrupted when Joseph and Anna walked up to them.

"Hi Remy," Anna greeted him nervously, "Logan."

"Hey," Logan replied, nonplussed. Remy didn't reply at all. Joseph reached out to shake Logan's hand, while Logan continued on another beer, not acknowledging the other man in anyway.

"De hell y' wan' Anna?" Remy asked, annoyed.

"Joseph an' Ah jus' wanted a drink is all," she paused momentarily, trying to sound excited, "We're goin' to Mississippi next week, to say hello to my folks, then I'm goin' with Joseph to live in Washington. "

"D.C.?" Logan quipped.

Joseph answered, "No, state."

Remy had cleaned up the table, and shouted over the crowd to Henri, "Henri, y' gon' close tonigh'?"

"Sure Remy!" Henri shot back, waving his hand.

"Merci!"

Remy grabbed his duster, placing his arms in the sleeves, he turned to Logan, "I'm headin' home Logan, catch y' tomorrow."

"Sure thing Cajun." Logan silently laughed at the ignored couple who was watching Remy with hurt looks on their faces.

"Remy --", Anna started, before being interrupted, Remy glanced at her, "De rest of y' t'ings in a box at de house. I be sure t' put it outside on de porch fo' y', make sure y' get it befo' ya'll leave. Or else, it'll be on de dump."

Remy wasn't fazed by the look of distress on her face, he was so over it. That look just didn't affect him anymore, Remy had reached the point-of-no-return with her long ago. His duster billowed out behind him as he left the bar, more than ready to go home. Joseph and Anna behind him, shocked surprise on their faces. He walked outside to where his Harley was parked, pulling out another cigarette. This time his lighter was on hand, the curls of smoke once again, reminding him of Dr. Ororo's glorious hair.

" '_Roro," _he whispered to himself, out loud into the night, liking the way it sounded in his thick Cajun lit._ Beauty she say it meant. _

That she was and them some. He wondered what language her name came from. He wondered what kind of genetics she possessed that had given her that beautifully brown skin, pristine white hair, and crystalline, blue eyes. Topazes, he had called them. The only thing he could think to describe them as, they had sparkled so brightly in her large, almond-shaped eyes. He wondered so many things about her, he noticed, his face revealing his pleasure. He smiled at his thoughts of her as he straddled his bike and rode off into the warm night.

* * *

Translations:

mon frére! - my brother!

bien - good

femme - woman


	12. Chapter 12

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **Thank you for reading & reviewing (Whatever-life, Gator Bait, Daddygal15, Slightly) It is very much appreciated. Good to know someone likes your work :D Please enjoy guys - AshraAstarte

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 12 -**

"I'm so sorry Dr. Munroe, I just—just can't help it! It seems like its never enough! Even after this last surgery, I still want more!"

Ororo looked at her patient sympathetically. Dania Christiano had only met with Ororo a total of three times. A day before they could meet a fourth time, Dania had abruptly ended her sessions with Valhalla Psychiatry and with Ororo. Ororo had advised her not to, informing her that such a disorder could not be remedied so quickly. But the stubborn Mrs. Christiano had not heeded Ororo's professional advice, and after her most recent botched cosmetic operation, she had returned to Ororo—seeking help once more. On a personal level, Ororo felt deeply for her. The woman had been quite attractive before her unhealthy obsession with plastic surgery. But due to her disorder, Dania was convinced her physical appearance was never perfect enough.

Even though technically Dania did it do herself by ceasing her treatments, Ororo felt for her deeply. Ororo was well known for her compassion. It was one of the reasons Emma had desired to mentor her personally, seeing great promise and potential in the young med student. Before, Dr. Frost had rarely taken on the role of mentoring anyone; she had simply been too in demand at the time, but with Ororo—Emma had personally sought her out for mentorship. Ororo had readily accepted—humbled at the request, Dr. Frost's psychiatric prowess was legendary.

On a professional level however, it was essential Ororo remain detached. It was paramount in her profession, and one of the first things she had been taught; never become too emotionally involved with a patient. How could one diagnose and treat another professionally if the doctor/patient relationship was breached by a lack of professional discipline?

Fortunately for Ororo, she had always felt the need to be in firm control over her own feelings and emotions for her own personal reasons. Reasons no one seemed to know of. Not her adoptive father, Xavier. Not her best friend, Jean. It was therapy sessions such as these—with Dania Christiano—that comforted Ororo concerning her self-imposed, emotional suppression.

"That is why I implored you to continue your sessions, Mrs. Christiano," Ororo reminded the woman soothingly. She straightened in her chair, "Dysmorphophobia is a very serious disorder, it takes time and treatment to overcome it."

Dania Christiano sighed, nodding her head in agreement, "I know Dr. Munroe, I know. For a time there I -- I thought, I thought—just one more surgery. . . "

"That is completely understandable Mrs. Christiano, those who suffer with Body Dysmorphic Disorder often believe that. It is then that one surgery becomes two, and two becomes four, hence, a never-ending cycle of plastic surgery ensues until they become practically unrecognizable. "

The bleach-blond woman lowered her head in shame, her artificially bright locks falling into her face.

". . . But . . . fortunately for you Mrs. Christiano, you have not reached that point just yet. You are still a beautiful woman, and I believe you will remain so—if. . ." Ororo punctuated the 'if' looking her directly in the eyes, ". . . you continue your sessions with me regularly. Trust me, there are worse fates than spending a few hours in my company Mrs. Christiano," Ororo joked, winking at her, a warm smile on her face.

The woman flashed Ororo a bright smile and nodded eagerly, "Sure thing Miss Munroe! Thank you very, very much!"

She stood and took both of Ororo's hands into her own and shook them enthusiastically.

"Goodbye Mrs. Christiano."

"Bye Dr. Munroe," she threw back over her shoulder as she exited Ororo's office. Right before she did, she stopped completely in her tracks; turning around to look at Ororo.

"Dr. Munroe?" the woman asked curiously.

"Yes Mrs. Christiano," Ororo answered, meeting her gaze.

She began slowly, "I -- I thought that if a surgeon could. . . if -- if somehow I could look or rather. . . be as beautiful as you are, that I would be happy. That -- that I would be. . . perfect."

She looked down, not meeting Ororo's face until she spoke again, "But now, I think I'd rather just be as beautiful as you are. . . internally." She smiled kindly at Ororo in confirmation.

Ororo struggled to choke back her tears. Patient or not, she ran to the hurting woman and embraced her warmly.

"Mrs. Christiano, that is a beauty you have already achieved," Ororo asserted, comforting her. The woman's confession had touched her deeply. Doctor or no, the rules would never overshadow her compassion for others. She was a human being before a doctor.

"Thank you Dr. Munroe," she exclaimed, her cheek on Ororo's shoulder.

"I will see you soon, Mrs. Christiano," Ororo assured, releasing the shorter woman.

"Alright Dr. Munroe, and thank you."

She waved goodbye to Ororo as she left the office. Ororo smiled and fell back tiredly into her chair.

_Patients like her make it all worth it._

She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. She had back-to-back sessions this afternoon. She attempted to center herself before the next patient arrived. She pushed a button on her phone, getting Kitty on the line.

"Hey Kathyrn?" Ororo asked into the speaker.

"Yes doctor?"

"I hate to ask you but, if your not occupied, would you bring me a cup of Jasmine tea from the break room?" Ororo always kept a box of Jasmine tea in the break room for herself, incase she wanted some of the warm refreshment while still at work. It always helped in soothing her.

"No problem Dr. Munroe, I was going to get a cup of coffee for myself anyway. I'll be down with it in a sec."

"Please call me Ororo Kathryn, and thank you."

"Sure Ororo," Kitty laughed and ended the call.

Ororo rubbed her temples—a bit exhausted, and stood up to stretch her long, graceful body. She picked up the revised agenda that Kitty had given her before Dania Christiano had arrived. She began inspecting it, _Let us see—who is next. . ._

Her eyes widened when she saw the name, mouth agape. Just as she did. . .

* * *

* Knock, knock, knock, knock! *

The rapid knocks were followed by the door opening slightly to reveal a blushing Kathryn holding her coffee, and a brightly smiling Mr. LeBeau, standing at the threshold of her office—a cup of steaming Jasmine tea in his long hands.

"I uh, met Mr. LeBeau here on the way down to deliver your tea. Apparently he is your next session. "

"Yes - yes he is," Ororo said, her stomach fluttering. Blue eyes wide. She smiled appreciatively at Kitty, "Thank you Kathryn."

Kitty looked at Ororo and then at a smiling Remy who winked at her.

"No - no problem," and with that, she gently closed the door, leaving Remy and Ororo alone—staring at each other.

"Remy believes dis belong t' y' chére," he said, breaking the silence as he walked towards her, offering her the tea. He stared at her, noticing with delight her deeply heaving chest. She still had yet to move. He gently took one of her hands and placed it on the cup, helping her. She shook her head, apologizing, "Forgive me, Mr. LeBeau," she said smiling gently.

She tightened her grip on the cup, though he failed to remove his own hand from it once she had. He gingerly moved his fingers over hers. She stared down at the two hands holding the cup: one dainty, soft and brown; one strong, gentle, and tanned. A beautiful contrast. "Thank you," she said, moving away to take a seat behind her desk.

"Y' welcome chére," he said smirking at her. Her timidness showing once more. He sat down in the same chair he had occupied the last time. She placed her tea on a coaster, not wanting to mare the exquisite mahogany desk. She cleared her throat, readying herself to meet that intense dark gaze of his, only to see him smiling at her—perfect white teeth exposed. Despite herself, she grinned, "What is it Mr. LeBeau?" she asked, curious.

"Not'ing Dr. Munroe. . . Remy jus. . . miss y' is all." She twitched noticeably. His answer catching her off guard. What do you say in the face of such blatant male attention? She ignored the warmth she felt at his words. Calm and collected she found her voice, "I find that hard to believe Mr. LeBeau, this is only your second time meeting me. Hardly enough time for you to feel a void at my absence."

He leaned towards her in his chair, his voice low and sultry, eyes sparkling and intense, "If y' don' mind me sayin' Dr. Munroe, y' de type of femme dat can make Remy feel a lot of t'ings." She stopped. Her tea cup held still at her mouth—not drinking. Her eyes were on him, heart drumming loudly at his words. She shivered noticeably at his honesty—catching Remy's attention. Her reaction pleased him immensely. He grinned flirtatiously at her. She slowly resumed sipping her tea, it was indeed refreshing as her throat was suddenly very dry. She sat the tea cup back down, the silence in the room pleasantly awkward, magnifying the unsaid and the unspoken.

Her turn. She sat back comfortably in her chair, clipboard and pen now in her delicate hands, and spoke as she began writing. "So that confirms one of my theories already," she said cryptically. A knowing grin on her face.

"An' wha' woul' dat be Miss Munroe?" Remy asked, intrigued by how quickly she'd regained her control. "That you are a skilled charmer, Mr. Remy --" she looked at the sheet behind the one she had wrote on, and continued, "--Etienne LeBeau."

Now Remy was the one who shivered. He loved how his name sounded when she had just said it. She had a slight accent of some kind—he could tell. It was a very subtle one, but an accent nonetheless. He laughed heartily at her comment, "Y' be a hell of a shrink huh chérie? Wha' Remy get 'imself into, eh?!"

He truly wondered, what indeed? In the fifteen minutes he'd been there, his palms were already feeling sweaty and his throat was dry once more. His stomach was full of metaphorical butterflies, and he couldn't tear his eyes from the magnificent beauty before him for more than three seconds at best.

She smiled at him. "You will see," she said, surprised by her own sudden boldness. "Pleasantries aside Mr. LeBeau, I was hoping to ask you a few questions in our session today. To simply learn a bit about you, some of your hobbies—perhaps learn a little of your background and family. However much you feel comfortable sharing at this present time. There is no pressure, you do not have to disclose anything you do not feel comfortable with, this is just to assist me in knowing the best way to treat you and make sure your needs are met."

Though her statements were professional in nature, Remy couldn't help but feel warmed by her comments, her words stirring his loins.

_. . .the best way to treat you? . . .make sure your __needs__ are met? Hmph, she wouldn' say dat if she knew wha' Remy __**really **__needs from her. _

He cleared his throat and his mind of such thoughts, "Sure chére." He lowered his tone and drawled slowly, "Remy give y' whateva' y' wan'." She glanced up quickly and just as quickly, glanced back down again. He laughed inwardly at her discomfort, her shyness so endearing to him he thought his heart might burst. There was something about her, he couldn't put his finger on it; she carried an almost other-worldly presence around her. If that made sense. Something—enticing and alluring. Her poise and elegance was something of royalty, yet a distinctly feminine power emanated from her combined with a quiet strength. He knew it; could sense it. Something. . . wild and free stirred within her heart. He could practically feel it and it overwhelmed him with how pleasing it was.

He decided he had to investigate this rare treasure that was before him, no matter what.

* * *

Remy was contemplatively subdued during the rest of their session. Answering her simple questions with yes and no answers. She dared not ask anything too personal just yet, her training as a therapist had already revealed certain things about him to her. She could discern a painful past, and did not want to disturb him with callous questioning. He was covert and mysterious. Behind his intense gaze, lurked a sadness. She was shocked by her passionate desire to erase it, to soothe it. Not as a professional, or a doctor, but the way only a woman could. It was those feelings that made her. . . uneasy. She felt excessively warm the entire session, but still managed to retain her cool demeanor for the duration of it. When she had notified him that her brief questioning was over, he had looked a bit dismayed. She instructed him to make another appointment at the receptionist's desk for another session, wherever there was an opening. He lingered a bit after her instructions, not wanting to leave. She wrung her hands nervously before him; looking down at her maroon, Dancy Gabriella Rocha pumps. They had matched her poplin blouse with its ¾ sleeves perfectly. She still had her white locks drawn back into a bun, and Remy couldn't help but wonder what it would look like out. Desiring to see it in all of its glory.

_How woul' it feel? _he wondered_._

Ororo grabbed her briefcase from the floor, where it had been beside her desk and began putting various folders and portfolios into it. He watched as she strode over to her coat rack, draping her coat over her arm. She looked up to catch him staring. She smiled reassuringly at him.

_So adorable_, she thought admittedly, _Wait. What?!_

His voice interrupted her thoughts, "Y' goin' home chére?"

"Yes Mr. LeBeau, I am."

"Well den," he came over and offered her his hand, "Remy'll walk y' to y' car."

Ororo stood dumbfounded—looking at the offered hand, noting the slender vanilla fingers that looked soft to the touch, "That is. . . very kind of you Mr. LeBeau, but there is no need really. "

"Call me Remy chére," he insisted, "It soon be dark ou'side and Remy wan' escort de lady t' her car, non? Y' not gon' turn dis po' Cajun down, eh?" He looked at her with a mock pout, eyes twinkling.

Those protruding flushed lips of his made her breathing hitch. "Thank you," she replied politely—taking his lean, muscular arm instead. She certainly couldn't walk hand in hand with him to her vehicle. It felt very good, his strong arm wrapped around her own. They made their way to the parking lot, waving goodbye to a surprised Kitty, apparently on the phone talking to her fiancé. They descended the concrete steps that led to the entrance, where Ororo halted upon hearing someone call her name.

"Ororo!"

She turned to see Dr. Dayspring jogging towards her, keys in his hand—smile on his face. Remy glowered at the handsome gentleman approaching his. . . well. . . Dr. Munroe.

"Good evening Nathan," Ororo greeted him pleasantly. "Hi Ororo." He glanced at the man possessively holding Ororo's arm.

"Who is your friend Ororo?" Nathan asked her, staring at Remy.

"This is Mr. Remy LeBeau, he is one of my -- "

" -- good friends," Remy interrupted, standing slightly taller. "Oh," Nathan replied. Relieved. He offered his hand to Remy, shaking it in greeting. He turned his attention back to Ororo, "Like a walk to your car, Ororo?"

"No mon ami, she be fine. Remy was already walkin' de lady t' her car," he responded blandly, answering for her. Nathan gazed at Remy then Ororo, who looked both surprised and amused. He looked back at Remy meeting his gaze. They stood there silently—awkwardly for a few moments—Ororo particularly.

"Well 'Ro an' I be goin' now, good meetin' y'," and with that Remy directed them away quickly from the jilted doctor who stared after them incredulously.

" 'Ro?" Ororo questioned, laughing out loud merrily at what had just took place, not to mention Remy's shortening of her name. Remy chuckled at her, delighted, his ears tickled with the sound of her rich laughter. Her laughter quieted as they neared her vehicle.

"Dis yours petite?!" he asked, pointing at the sleek, black BMW that occupied her reserved parking space. He glanced at the plaque above it.

"It is," she replied, disarming the alarm, her arm still within his own.

"Y' mus' be doin' very well fo' y'self M'selle Munroe." He grinned at her.

"Not so much as all that," she said looking up at him, "my father bought it for me as a gift when I graduated med school."

"Oh, congratulations ma chére, where y' graduate from?"

"John Hopkins."

"Impressionnant!" he replied, genuinely impressed.

"Pourquoi, merci vraiment Monsieur Remy LeBeau!" Ororo spoke, smiling up knowingly at him.

"Y' can speak French chére?"

"Oui," she answered cheerily.

He smiled at her, _De femme get mo' amazin' by de minute._

They stared at each other for what seemed like endless moments. Neither really wanting to leave the others company.

"Thank you for walking me to my car Mr. LeBeau, but I am afraid if I keep you any longer, I will have to bill you for my overtime," she teased, laughing.

_Mon Dieu. . . dis girl!_

"Remy got no objections t' y' keepin' him ma chére." He paused, "It make Remy feel good. . . bein' 'round y'," he confessed freely. He froze.

_Merde. Did I jus' say dat out loud?_ he averted his gaze, embarrassed at his slip up. He was loosing his cool.

She softly squeezed his hand in an attempt to comfort, his words making her feel joyful inside. Very joyful. He stared into her smiling eyes, "That - that is nice of you to say, Mr. LeBeau."

He hesitantly brushed his fingers lightly over her warm cheek, soft to his touch. "Jus' Remy chére."

She caught his hand, staring in his hooded gaze—everything seeming a bit. . . hazy. Her touch sent shivers down his spine. "Goodnight," she said hoarsely, and jumped into her car before he even had the time to open the door for her. He watched her through the front windshield—placing her things on the passenger seat, fastening her seat belt, and finally starting the ignition. She didn't meet his gaze again, until she was about to pull off. She gave him a quick smile, waved, and slowly pulled out of the parking lot.

Remy simply stood there for a few moments. Alone. Thinking. His heart thumping steadily against his chest. He looked up at the starry sky, feeling for the first time, the humidity of the night. He hadn't even noticed it. He had been uncharacteristically warm the entire evening. He inhaled deeply before getting out his own keys and heading towards his vehicle.

* * *

Translations:

Impressionnant! - Impressive!

Pourquoi, merci vraiment Monsieur Remy LeBeau! - Why, thank you very much Mr. Remy LeBeau!


	13. Chapter 13

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N:** Thank you to the following: _Acadian Angel_, _Whatever-life_, _Tamisha_, _Brandy_, _StormingtheGambit_, _Hall_, and _LadyScrubs_. I very much appreciate your reviews and input. I will continue to the best of my ability to write a story you all can enjoy. It may require a little patience, but I will do my best. (I don't consider myself a great writer, so the fact that you all are even taking time out to R/R means a lot :D ) Hope I don't disappoint. Enjoy, AshraA

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 13 -**

Ororo tossed and turned fitfully in her queen sized bed. She had been restless since yesterday, after her session with Remy—or rather Mr. LeBeau; thoroughly disappointed with her own behavior. She rolled over unto her back, sighing loudly before glancing at the digital clock that rested on her nightstand where it read: 3:47

It was a good thing she didn't work tomorrow—today technically, as it was after midnight. It was the weekend and she had expected to be visited by Forge this weekend, as he had promised her only days before, but alas. She had come in from work only to find a voicemail message from him, saying he was busy with work and would try to come up the next week. She sighed dejectedly as she listened to him offer apology, after apology before deleting the message. She hadn't even waited to hear it in its entirety.

She rose from her bed and clicked on the lamp sitting on the nightstand. She scooted to the edge of her bed and stared blankly at the wall opposite her, raking her hands through her bed-ruffled white hair.

_Tea_, she thought, and tiredly padded her way into the kitchen to prepare her favorite Jasmine tea.

She sat down at the small round glass table in her kitchen and slowly drank the freshly prepared tea—hoping the warm liquid would assist in soothing her tired mind. Perhaps it would allow her to soon drift off into a relaxing sleep. A headache was starting to build, she could tell.

The Jasmine scent of her tea wafted into her nostrils and the smell brought back the vivid memory of a handsome man with strong, slender fingers clasping over her own as he had handed her her tea. She let the corner of her mouth arch up into a slight smile at the memory. Him. The reason for her restlessness. She felt so ashamed, so embarrassed with her behavior yesterday. She had interacted with Mr. LeBeau, as if they were long time friends. Maybe more. Definitely not professional.

"Stupid," she chastised herself quietly. She hated when her feelings acted without her express permission, and yesterday she had felt so happy with their banter in the parking lot; she most certainly hadn't given her emotions the go-ahead on that one. He impressed her—for goodness sakes, he had made her laugh! That was an impressive feat in-and-of itself. She knew in all actuality neither of them had done anything wrong, but. . . it was what she had felt as they had interacted that shamed her. Perhaps some of it partially had to do with her issues with Forge.

Ororo had always been a bit nonchalant, a little aloof, even wound up too tight, but her relationship with Forge had only helped in encouraging such behaviors. She was constantly on guard with him lest he hurt her again. Relationships aren't mean to be that way. But she cared for him so much, more than anything. It was for that reason she had agreed to reconcile with him only weeks before her move to New Orleans—him telling her that their now close proximity would only strengthen and help their bond. God, she hoped he was correct. Maybe that was why she had let her guard down slightly around Mr. LeBeau.

_Yes, that was it. I was simply desperate to relieve some stress, desperate for some pleasant company. I have been a bit lonely since moving down here._

She made up her mind. She would just have to be harder on herself. She owed it to the Summers', to her colleagues, to her patients, to Forge, and Mr. LeBeau, to be at her best. She determined to give them nothing less from her. If loneliness was the cause of her misjudgment yesterday, than she would have to spend more time on the phone talking with Jean or Xavier. Feeling more at ease with her new found resolve, she finished her tea and slinked back into bed, hoping the tea would work its magic.

* * *

**_Next work morning . . ._**

Ororo strolled into Valhalla Psychiatry beaming. Not only had she completed decorating and arranging her apartment over the weekend, but she had successfully reined in those stray, pesky thoughts and bothersome emotions that had her reeling over the weekend. Ororo walked over to Kathryn's desk, silently greeting her with a nod of acknowledgement and a brief smile, noting Kathryn was on the phone. Upon seeing Ororo, Kitty abruptly ended her phone call,

"No Jubes, I'll call you. . . Yes - yes. . . okay, bye. . ."

Kitty simply stared at Ororo as she rifled through her briefcase, looking for the documents she wanted Kitty to copy for her this morning. When Ororo finally looked up to hand Kitty the papers, she was still staring at Ororo—a puzzled expression on her face.

"What is it Kathryn? Why are you staring at me like that?" Ororo asked, amused at the look Kitty was giving her.

"I saw you Friday."

Ororo looked at her, "Yes, I know. **You **were at work on Friday. I was at work on Friday. **You **revised my agenda for me on Friday. Oh, and **you **also brought **me **some tea on Friday," Ororo concluded while she chuckled mirthfully.

"Noooo. Gee, don't be coy Miss Munroe. I mean, I saw you with. . . Mr. LeBeau. He walked with you arm-in-arm outside."

At the mention of him Ororo froze, and her stomach fluttered.

"Uh - w - well. . . he - uh --" Ororo stammered, trying to explain. Kitty looked at her expectantly, itching to hear some juicy tid-bits about the gorgeous Cajun that was making the eloquent Dr. Munroe stammer so.

"He, uh, just asked to walk me to my car. It was dark, and well, you know—southern hospitality and all that."

"Mmm-hmm," Kitty answered, clearly not buying it.

"So," Ororo stated in conclusion, changing the topic of discussion. She certainly was not about to indulge Kitty's ridiculous assumptions, "could you copy these documents for me, and have this furniture bill faxed to the Summers' hotel in St. Petersburg please?"

"Sure Dr. Munroe."

"Ororo," she corrected her with a wink.

* * *

_**Later in the afternoon . . .  
**_

"Bonjour, ma chére," Remy greeted Kathryn, "Remy here to see his Dr. Munroe," he stated, almost proudly. Kitty looked up at him, wondering if she had heard him right through his thick drawl.

_**His **Dr. Munroe?_ Kitty thought, as she acknowledged the smiling charmer who stood in front of her desk, drumming his slender fingers on the surface. _I knew it_, Kitty thought to herself in a sing-song voice.

"Yes, well, Dr. Munroe is in a brief conference call. She should be out in a few minutes, you can go down once they are done. I'll beep her and let her know."

"Non, non, non, don' do dat chére," Remy said excitedly, "I wait fo' 'er in de office." He winked at her, and eagerly made his way to Ororo's office, before Kitty could stop him.

* * *

Ororo walked into her office smiling. She and the others had just come out of a conference call with the Summers', where most of it was spent laughing at Scott and Emma bickering at each other over the speaker phone. Apparently, Emma was doing a fine job of maxing out all of Scott's credit cards. Ororo sat down at her desk, not even noticing the handsome gentleman sitting directly on the other side of it. It wasn't until the scent of cloves hit her nose that she jumped in shock as she finally noticed him—a devilish smirk appearing on his face.

"Didn' mean t' scare y' ma chére," Remy cooed, bowing his head. Ororo breathed heavily, hand over her erratically beating heart.

"M - Mr. LeBeau—I did not know we were meeting today."

"Oui, Remy called an' got his appointment moved up."

Ororo simply stared at him, his silky red-brown hair falling down into his handsome face—partially concealing his dark eyes. That new found resolve of hers faltered slightly upon looking in his smoldering orbs. Memories of Friday's encounter flashed through her mind. There was something. . . peculiar about that gaze. . . something behind it.

She shook her head, "Somehow I was not made aware of the change. I was unprepared to meet with you today. I am sorry."

"S' okay chére. Don' worry about it, non?" he assured her, smiling.

That smile. That smile, eased her anxiousness, but increased her butterflies five-fold. Admittedly, it wasn't the lack of preparation, or his sudden appearance that frazzled her, but his scent. His smile. His eyes. His presence. She looked him over. He was dressed in a black t-shirt under his brown duster. Even with the duster on, it did little to hide his well-toned physique. His feet were crossed at the ankles, and his vintage Doc Martens were impeccable. His lithe body was simply beautiful as he sat stretched out lazily in his leather chair, a wry, cocky grin on his face. She returned his smile, much to his delight.

"Thank you," she responded, nodding, "Well since you are here Mr. LeBeau, we should certainly make the most of it. There is a room adjacent to this one, that I use for the actual therapy sessions. We can begin there," she stated, rising from her seat—hoping to conceal the blush that had risen in her face. She felt like a bundle of nerves whenever she was in his presence.

"Non, chére. Remy like it here jus' fine," he said, grabbing her hand, stopping her in her tracks. His touch sent shivers up her arm. She looked down at his hand, amazed by the reaction it had caused. Something so simple. She looked up to catch him grinning at her smugly, obviously aware of the reaction he had caused as well.

"If that is what you prefer Mr. LeBeau, then. . . I have no objections. Please, lets begin."

Remy stared at her curiously as she took her seat. She seemed a bit more. . . formal towards him than she had the evening he had walked her to her car. Less at ease. Like the afternoon when he had first met her. He wondered why.

_Well, guess it up t' Remy t' warm her up. . ._

"So y' make it home okay las' Friday den non?" Remy asked her. She glanced up at him, "Yes, I did. And thank you again for your kindness."

"Y' welcome ma chére." He made sure he had her attention when he spoke again, "Y' know, Remy can offer y' a lot mo' den a walk t' y' car. . ." He grinned.

Boy, was he laying it on thick and he knew it too. She simply stared at him, amazed at his brazenness. He made her almost jumpy with nervousness, his allure was so strong. . .

She cleared her throat. "Well thankfully that won't be necessary Mr. LeBeau," she responded, taking the diplomatic approach to his blatant flirtations.

"The last few times we met were more preliminary sessions," she began, "To allow you the opportunity to feel comfortable with me—sharing with me. The last time you were here you informed me that. . . you own a business. . . that you are a native New Orleanian, born and raised, aannnd--" she looked at his file, quoting him exactly, " --you thought I would be a 'spinster' when you first came here," she finished playfully.

He laughed—guided by his low baritone, before responding, "Oui, dats wha' Remy t'ought. . . but boy was he wrong," he replied, smiling cheekily at her. She gave him a gentle smile before continuing, "Do you mind telling me some things about your family?"

"Non chérie. Wha' y' wan' t' kno'?"

She readied her Caran d'Ache fountain pen—preparing to take notes, "Um. . . anything. Feel free to discuss whatever you want."

"Not much t' say," Remy began, shrugging his shoulders, "my pére's name is Jean-Luc LeBeau. He really de only family Remy got. He adopted me as a bébé. I gotta bro'der name Henri. Other den dat, Remy ain' got no family, 'cept mon ami, Logan, he like a'nuder frére t' me."

"And your father," Ororo asked quizzically, "he is **thee **Jean-Luc LeBeau, as in the mayor?"

"Oui."

"Impressive," Ororo noted quietly, still writing.

She cleared her throat before asking the next question, "Do you have a spouse or significant other?" Ororo asked, slightly apprehensive as she waited for his answer.

He smiled at her, the topic more to his liking, "Non. No spouse. An' Remy ain' got no femme righ' now either. Matta-of-fact, Remy jus' end it wid her a few weeks back."

"Oh. I am sorry to hear that," Ororo said sincerely. Still, she couldn't help but feel, well. . . relieved by the news.

He tilted his head slightly as he watched her scribbling down notes. He watch as she moved the pen across the paper and the way she bit her lip in deep concentration as she wrote down her observations. Full, ruddy red lips. . . just like a pomegranate. The sun straining through her office windows illuminated even further the sparkling, blue gems that were her eyes. So unspeakably beautiful she was. He sat in awe as she wrote, and swallowed hard.

"Wha' 'bout y' Miss Munroe?"

"Hmm?" she asked, looking up from her notes.

"Y' got a significant other chérie?" Remy asked, a wry grin appearing on his face.

Ororo simply looked at him, watching him watching her—waiting for her response. His dark eyes bore into her own as they stared at each other, she wanted to turn away—she was sure he could read her, sense everything she was leaving unspoken between them. She forced herself to look away. _What was going on?_

"Mr. LeBeau," Ororo started cautiously, finding her voice, "I must apologize to you."

The smile slowly faded from Remy's face as he straightened in his seat, the chemistry still palpable in the air, "Fo' wha' chére?"

"For Friday. I should not have behaved so. I should not have allowed you to walk me to my car. As I am sure you know, I have to be careful to maintain a strict professional relationship with my patients. I fear I was a bit lax that afternoon and was behaving very unlike myself. I want to give you the best service possible—to help you, and treat you with the best possible care. I cannot do that however, if I forget my position. I want there to be a cordial rapport between my patients and I, while still maintaining a professional atmosphere. I am sure you understand. . ."

Ororo silently cringed as she finished. She didn't want to sound so cold, but this. . . situation, had to be remedied immediately. They simply could not interact with each other this way.

Neither of them said anything. Remy stared at her, his gaze dulled. His face impassive. She looked back at him, regretting their unfortunate situation. If he were not her patient, perhaps they could form a. . . friendship of sorts. She had felt such ease Friday as they talked in the parking lot, as though they had a certain past familiarity. She had felt. . . comfortable. Nervous, but comfortable. It was his extreme allure—that is what made her nervous. She shook her head remembering the heat she had just felt moments earlier—a friendship? Who was she kidding?

The tense silence was interrupted by a single knock and the door opening suddenly, revealing a smiling Forge.

* * *

"Forge!" Ororo stood up abruptly. The shock bringing her sharply out of her musings. He responded by quickly walking towards her and scooping her off her feet; embracing her tightly, as he kissed her hungrily. Oblivious to the scowling man who now stood, and was only two feet away from them. Ororo pulled away slightly, shocked by his sudden appearance—in her office no less—and by his highly uncouth public displays of affection. _Speaking of unprofessional_, Ororo thought to herself as she inconspicuously wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Surprise!" Forge said happily, arms outstretched.

"You - you told me on the voicemail that you could not come up this week," Ororo said, still stunned. _Of all the times._

"Change of plans love. Change of plans." He grabbed her by her waist, pulling her close to him, as he embraced her tightly. When Remy cleared his throat impatiently, he looked up, noticing the other man for the first time.

"Oh. I am sorry Ororo. I didn't know you were occupied. Your secretary said it was about time for you to break for lunch," he said loosening his grip on her a bit.

Ororo glanced at her watch. _How had the day gotten so screwed?_

"I was going to cut into it so that I could have some time with Mr. LeBeau here," Ororo said, gesturing to the seemingly unhappy man close to them. Her heart plummeted as she noticed Remy's dark scowl.

She smiled nervously, trying to cover up the awkwardness of their situation. "Mr. LeBeau, this is Jonathan Raincloud, he goes by Forge. Forge, this is Mr. LeBeau," Ororo said, introducing both men to each other respectively. The Native-American man outstretched his large hand to Remy, who took it begrudgingly.

"Good to meet you Mr. LeBeau, I am Ororo's boyfriend," he added unnecessarily, as if his affectionate displays towards her had not been clearly interpreted. Ororo stared down at her feet, silently cursing the sudden turn of events today.

Remy just grunted in reply, looking at Ororo, who was intent on not meeting his gaze. No one spoke, until Ororo broke the silence.

"Forge, if you wouldn't mind, I have to finish my session. Please, could you wait for me outside while I continue with Mr. LeBeau," Ororo requested as she walked back to her seat. She hoped to apologize to Remy for this whole. . . situation, as unfortunate as it was. There was no doubt she liked the man, she didn't want to end their session on a bad note. He was her patient after all. The thought of it darkened her mood even more, for reasons she didn't feel like addressing right now.

"Non, non, s' okay. Remy be leavin' now anyway," he said walking briskly towards the door.

"Mr. LeBeau please, we can still continue - -"

"Non. Remy don' feel much like it righ' now Dr. Munroe," he replied tersely, before swiftly disappearing through the door, shutting it harder than necessary.

Forge shook his head at Remy's display, "I don't see how you stand it Ororo. Dealing with people like that everyday. Lemme guess. . . anger issues right?"

Ororo looked at him, "I do not understand how you deal with dishonest politicians, and implicit secrecy everyday, not even able to - -"

"Alright, alright, alright. Truce," Forge said, lifting his hands in surrender.

He walked towards her, " I'm sorry," he assured her, "I know how much you love doing this. . . God Ororo, I missed you so much," he said, bending down to kiss her tenderly.

"And I you," she said, after he had released her.

"Are you going to lunch?" he asked, wrapping his arm around her.

"No. I think I am going to work into my lunch today. You should head on to my apartment, I will meet you there after I am finished with work," she said, trying to disguise the melancholy she felt.

"Tell you what, I'll wait for you in the waiting area until your done. Then we can go to your apartment together, I'll drive behind you."

"Well, if you do not mind waiting --"

"No problem sweetheart," he interrupted, "I'll be out there when your done okay?"

"Okay," Ororo nodded, as he smiled and pecked her on the lips one last time before leaving.

Ororo sat despondently at her desk, upset at the way her conversation had ended with Mr. LeBeau. For more reasons than one.


	14. Chapter 14

**DISCLAIMER**_**:**_ I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N**_**: **_Thank you to the reviewers and to those who have been reading & enjoying this fic. I will probably update again this week since this chapter is a bit of an upset, i.e. not much Remy and Ororo - _AshraAstarte_

**NOTES**_**:**_ _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 13 -**

Remy felt sick to his stomach. Admittedly, he wasn't the most morally upstanding guy, but still. . . This was low even for him. Remy shifted in the creaky bed unto his side slowly and as quietly as possible to give himself some much needed space. He didn't want to wake up --

"Remy?"

Too late.

She scooted closer to him, even though their proximity was the very reason he had moved over. Her bare chest was pressed against his warm back and she happily draped her arm over him in an attempt to draw him closer. She lazily ran her hand over his virtually hairless chest, relishing in the delightful irony of their situation. Hadn't he been the one that had brushed her off so meaninglessly the other day? Remy sighed tiredly, already annoyed with her clinginess.

"Go back t' sleep Anna."

"Mmm. . . Ah will if you will Swamp Rat," she cooed into his ear, trailing her hands from his smooth chest, further down. . .

He sighed, annoyed as he grabbed her hand impatiently, stopping its slow descent down his torso, and sat up on her bed.

"Whats wrong sugah?" she asked, following suit.

"Anna," he started frustrated, rubbing his temples, "lets not carry on pretenses here, non?"

He stared at her point blank. She opened her mouth to speak but didn't. Instead, he took the opportunity to in her silence.

"I be leavin' now." Remy quickly rose from the bed, stark-naked, attempting to find his discarded clothing. He was suddenly very pissed with himself.

"W-what! Remy—wait! W-whats wrong?!" she demanded, confusion written on her face as she stared after the bumbling man who was desperately seeking his clothes.

He halted his search to look at her briefly, "Anna. Remy ain' got time fo' dis," he warned her, glaring.

"Ya sure did las' night!" she shrieked.

"Listen Anna," he snarled at her, "ain' no use y' pretendin' dis was somt'ing its not. Remy was drunk an' pissed off. I saw y' in de bar, an' t'ought, 'Why not?' Dats it. Not'ing less, an' definitely not'ing more," he added harshly.

He began to redress himself. _Boy dis was not worth de headache_, he reprimanded himself silently, shaking his head. Why did he always find himself in these situations? He sat down in an adjacent chair to put on his boots.

"Remy, Ah know ya don't mean that!" she responded coolly, her voice raised.

_Here come de theatrics . . ._

"You were so passionate last night!"

"I was drunk."

"Ah know ya loved every bit of it! Ya loved every bit of me!"

He answered her with a short, coarse laugh. Her naiveté was comical. _"_Chére, Remy ain' doin' dis wid y'. Y' forget—dem theatrics of yours, dey don' work on dis Cajun no mo', save dem fo' Joseph," he remarked callously.

At the mention of Joseph the skunk-haired woman lowered her head in shame. She loved Joseph, but she never had been able to resist Remy. No one could. That would always be her downfall. Somewhere along the line, Remy had wised up during the course of their ill-fated relationship. The split had been mutual, but last night when a drunken Remy had turned on his world famous charm, she simply had not been able to resist. So they had left the bar together, and here they were. The culmination of bad judgment, alcohol, desperation, and past yearning—more on her part than Remy's, except for the alcohol and bad judgment. . .

Remy grabbed his keys off of the floor and quickly headed towards the door, "Don' bother comin' t' de house t' pick up dat las' box of yours. I'll have Logan drop it off t' y' befo' y' an' Joseph leave fo' Washington."

He looked at her pointedly before warning her once more, "An' I'm not kiddin' either Anna. Don' be comin' by de house startin' wid y' drama queen act. Logan will bring de box t' **you**."

She looked at him incredulously, amazed at his coldness. Her eyes began to moisten as she felt the pangs of guilt and shame that hit her as she glanced at the clock that told of Joseph's soon arrival. How had she done this?

"Bonjour," he quipped over his shoulder, not bothering to look back, and firmly shut the door as he exited where he left behind a guilt-ridden Anna, who suddenly felt used and very much ashamed.

* * *

Remy sat down heavily on his bed, exhaling deeply. Again, he had done something stupid out of his oh-so-common, misplaced, drunken anger. Not only had he willingly used Anna, but he had slept with another man's woman. Even his infamous womanizing had its limits, and he had crossed them tonight, much to his dismay. He felt dirty, ashamed, and angry. The same way he had left Anna tonight. No matter their less-than-pleasant history, he had still wronged her tonight by using her to ease his own personal frustrations. He sighed again, looking at the thick, light blue folder resting on his nightstand. He picked it up and flipped through it, stopping when he came to the pamphlet with her picture on it and began to read it. The same way he did every night:

_Dr. Ororo Munroe is the adopted daughter of Dr. Charles Xavier, the prominent and foremost advocate of the Mutants Rights movement. Dr. Munroe was born in New York City, but was raised in Cairo, Egypt, where she remained until returning to the U.S. After completing high school, she was accepted into John Hopkins University, located in Baltimore, Maryland, where she graduated magna cum laude with her doctorate in psychiatry. She has recently relocated from Baltimore to New Orleans, Louisiana where she works as a therapist at the newly established **Valhalla Psychiatry** located on Andry and Aris in the heart of downtown New Orleans. She has authored two works on the subject of psychiatry; one of which was published in the New England Journal of Medicine. Dr. Munroe is an accomplished violinist and pianist and studies Botany in her leisure time._

He sighed for what seemed like the 100th time tonight—partly from tiredness, partly in awe. _She is truly somethin'_, he mused dreamily._ So dats where her accent comes from, she's from Egypt. _Man, was she exotic and intriguing! The smile that had appeared on his stubbled face faded as he recalled their last session. Her icy demeanor. Her apology to him, saying her behavior had been "unprofessional." And of course to top it all off, her hot-shot boyfriend had came and interrupted their discussion with his disgusting public displays of affection. Right in front of his face! He got angry even thinking about it. How the good-looking, raven-haired man had scooped the surprised doctor right off her feet into his burly arms and kissed her properly on the lips. How he had held her about her waist. So possessively, as if subliminally letting the other man know—she was his. The way he had smiled at Remy, so sure of himself, burned Remy to the core.

Angry once more, he laid the folder back on the nightstand, and stretched out on his bed, her pamphlet still in hand, looking at her smiling photo.

_Mon Dieu. She is so gorgeous. . . _he noted to himself. Delighted by the way her blue gems twinkled, even in the small color photo of her, they still twinkled bright and mystically.

_She jus' y' shrink LeBeau, _he reminded himself. Disturbed that she had affected him this much in the short amount of time that they'd been acquainted. But reminding himself of that fact still didn't erase his anger towards her for her betrayal. Nor did it rid him of his jealousy, and his more . . . amorous feelings . . .

But man, she was a wonderful point of frustration. He'd never say it out loud, but tonight as he lay with Anna, he wished wholeheartedly he could have been there with Ororo. He just couldn't take his mind off of her. Remy LeBeau. Able to have any woman he desired at anytime, had a serious crush on his therapist! What was the world coming to? Whatever she possessed inwardly as well as outwardly was surely throwing him for a loop. She possessed such an incredible beauty. Yeah sure, outwardly she had a beauty that was nothing less than divine. Her features perfectly flawless and heart-stopping. She radiated divine elegance and grace. A transcendent beauty, and God help him he truly desired her.

Why hadn't he took into account she probably had a boyfriend? How could she not have? And even if she didn't have one he knew that the other doctor who worked in her office had eyes for her. Hmph, what man wouldn't? But she had angered him, betrayed him even. He wanted her to feel his betrayal, what she had done to him as his heart had plummeted into his stomach while Forge kissed her passionately. He could have attacked the guy right then and there. Too much pent up frustration. Just thinking about it made him restless with annoyance. Determined to drown his irritations Remy grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

* * *

Ororo quietly slipped out of her bed and tip-toed to her study. Forge was snoring loudly in the guest room where she had put him up for the night, much to his disappointment. She gave a slight smile at the remembrance of dismay on his face as she had instructed him on were he would bed for the night. She simply was not ready for that level of intimacy yet, especially with a man she had only recently reunited with. They still had a long way to go in repairing their relationship, and Ororo didn't believe in doing anything in un-thought-out haste. She silently closed the door to her study and blindly made her way to her desk where she clicked on the lamp and searched through the papers on her desk to find his number of contact. She simply had to apologize, she wouldn't be able to rest until she did. She behaved so unlike herself when it came to him, and boy was it unsettling. He hadn't looked at all pleased as he had made his hasty exit from her office and she couldn't discard it—couldn't forget it. The sickening feeling she had felt when she saw the pain on his face. After all, she was his therapist, and his emotional well being was her priority. _If only that were all. . ._

Female automated voice: Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system 504 - 555 - 5777. At the tone please record your message. . .

*** B E E P ***

Mr. LeBeau, this Dr. Munroe. I am sorry I could not reach you, but I just wanted to apologize for the interruption during our session yesterday. I hope I did not upset you, and I apologize profusely if I offended you in anyway. We meet again in about a week or so and hope to see you and successfully begin our sessions once more. I enjoy being your therapist and I enjoy you being my patient and I sincerely hope we can restart on a better note this time. I look forward to seeing you, goodbye.

Ororo ended the call as she finished her message, and let out a sigh of relief, feeling better now that she had apologized, even if it was by a voice mail message. She would be sure to apologize again the next time they met—this time face-to-face. Everything would be fine now, she knew it. Satisfied, she crept back into her bed, happy she had taken the first steps towards making peace with Remy.


	15. Chapter 15

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **Thank you _Brazos_ for my warm Easter greeting! I hope you had a happy Easter as well =) Thanks very much to: _Razzoo_, _Daddygal_, _**_, _Whateverlife_, & _Hall _for reviewing the last chapter, and those who put this fic on your Story Alert list :D Not much to this chapter & it is a bit short, but the next one is much longer and well. . . lets just say, I'm excited for it. So excited, I might just update a lil' early *winks* Enjoy - _AshraAstarte_

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 15 -**

**Jean: **"But everything is going well then? I mean, other than that little mishap in your office the other day."

_Just like Forge to be insensitive_, Jean thought.

**Ororo: **"Yes it is. Things have been going so extremely well. I have seemingly the greatest colleagues in my profession. Dr. McCoy is a certified genius and Dr. Dayspring is so kind and obliging towards me. I won't mention the fact he is very attractive."

Ororo smiled as she listened to Jean laugh into the phone.

**Jean: **"Still making the guys swoon, eh Ororo?"

**Ororo: **"Says the gorgeous red-head."

**Jean: **"Yeah but you know how it always was in school. The guys lined up in droves for you and they were sent away in droves just the same. I was hoping you were getting better about that Ororo."

**Ororo: **"Sorry, I do not recall such times, anyway I am not exactly single you know. You know Forge and I are still in a relationship right?"

**Jean: **"Yes . . . unfortunately. How is Mr. Raincloud doing anyway?"

Disapproval clearly colored Jean's soft tone.

**Ororo: **"He is alright. He is really making strides Jean, I mean it. I believe things will be good from now on."

**Jean: **I certainly hope so Ororo, a woman like you doesn't have to take the junk guys like him give out."

**Ororo: **"I know Jean. I know. Hmph, you should have majored in psychiatry with me, you would have done well in it."

**Jean: **"No, I wouldn't. Besides, you know I like children. They complain less than the adults. And the little ones are so cute."

**Ororo: **"Oh, you want to talk about cute?! Jean, I would normally agree with your assessment, but you forget the gentleman I told you about earlier."

**Jean: **Oh yeah! The southern gentleman—the Cajun, what was his name again?"

**Ororo: **"Remy. Remy LeBeau."

**Jean: **"Remy. . . 'the beautiful' "?

**Ororo: **"Ironic is it not? But Jean, I tell you implicitly, his surname does not do him justice. He is quite literally the most beautiful man I have ever seen. He has to be the most attractive, charming man God ever created."

Jean listened on the other end as her normally nonchalant friend spoke animatedly in the background about one of her male patients. The dreaminess in her voice could not have been detected by anyone but Jean, except perhaps Xavier and Emma. Ororo must like this gentleman, whoever he is. Interesting. Very interesting. Anyone was better than Forge. But Ororo wouldn't dream of dating a patient. _Too bad_, Jean thought, Ororo really seems to enjoy this man's company.

**Jean: **"I'll take your word for it Ororo. You know, I've only ever heard your describe one other man like that. . ."

**Ororo: **"Yeah I know. . . Johnny Depp," Ororo sighed dreamily into the phone.

They both laughed out loud in merriment at their silliness.

**Jean: **"Hmmm, Ororo—the beauty, and LeBeau—the beautiful. Ha, how ironic is that! ( . . . ) I - uh, hope everything works out between you and him. . ."

**Ororo: **( . . . ) "What do you mean?"

**Jean: **"Sooo I will definitely work on coming down there soon. Or you could come up here, whichever one of us gets the opportunity first."

**Ororo: **( . . . ) "Yes, I understand. If possible, I would like to be the one to visit; so I can see dad. He e-mailed me the day before yesterday you know. Seems his last mutant awareness event was incredibly well received. I tell you Jean, my father's dream is going to come to fruition one day. "

**Jean: **"I agree Ororo. If anyone could do it, it would be Charles. I heard about the event via the grapevine, and read some about it in the papers. Supposedly some major clout was there, from Dr. Nathaniel Essex to Erik Lensherr, you know. . . anybody whose anybody. A nurse of mine is suppose to e-mail me the internet article on it."

**Ororo: **"Incredible."

**Jean: **"You can say that again. . ."

**Ororo: **"Well, thank you for taking some time to converse with me Jean. I miss you all very much, you have no idea."

**Jean: **"Sure I do, because I miss you just the same. More than you know ( . . . ) I'll talk to you soon alright? I love you, O."

**Ororo: **"Love you too Jeannie."

Ororo ended the call and stretched her body languorously. She was in the midst of all sorts of papers and files spread all over her floor, the mass of papers surrounding her. The blinking cursor on her laptop was practically taunting her for having yet to finish her latest article. This latest one was for the American Medical Association's, _Archives of General Psychiatry. _Forge was out, supposedly he was to bring home dinner, as Ororo had been way too busy to cook this afternoon; though not too busy to talk to Jean for close to two hours. She chastised herself amusingly. Talking to Jean staved off the homesickness she still felt at times. It was good to know Jean was doing well, then again, Jean always did well. Apparently, her practice was thriving more and more everyday.

"_I hope everything works out between you and him. . ."_

What had Jean been implying about Mr. LeBeau and herself? _Hmph, dear Jean, she hopes against hope one day I will not be in a relationship with Forge any longer. _It wasn't that Jean didn't like Forge, but she knew Ororo, and Forge was not what Ororo needed. In some ways, Forge was more uptight than Ororo.

Ororo's door opened to reveal Forge, laden down with what looked like bags of takeout of some kind. Ororo placed the files that were on her lap unto the floor and rose to help Forge with the dinner bags.

"Hey you," Ororo greeted Forge with a peck on the lips, taking two of the bags from his hands and setting them on the glass table in the kitchen.

"Mmm, that was good. I'll have another of those," he said as he dove in for another sweet peck on her soft lips. She laughed at him. "You will ruin your appetite if you keep indulging in sweets before dinner," Ororo chided, winking at him.

"When it comes to you Ororo, I don't much care." She smiled at him as she unpacked the bags putting down the cartons of food.

"So how is everything going with Jean?" he asked casually, as he reached into the cabinet above the sink, pulling down some plates. She had been on the phone with Jean before he had left.

"She is doing great."

"And Xavier?"

"He e-mailed me just the other day, and he is doing well. Still campaigning, still hosting events. You know my dad."

"I do," Forge responded sitting down to eat. Ororo followed suit.

"So how is that article coming?" he asked, taking out his and Ororo's chopsticks.

"I will have it completed soon. I just have some other things on my mind," she answered.

"You know you should get it done as soon as possible. The longer you take to write it, the less-likely you are to finish it in time, what with your schedule and all."

Ororo watched him as he dove unceremoniously into his noodles.

_There he goes again._ _Why must he insist on instructing me on how to approach my work? He did the exact same thing when I was deciding on what university to attend, forever attempting to make my decisions for me. I had forgotten how very irritating it was._

"I - I do not feel like eating right now. I think I will go finish that article after all," she said rising, swallowing down her ire. Forge continued, completely oblivous, "Good idea Ororo. You should go ahead and get that done."

She shook her head, some of her silky white strands of hair falling from her large messy bun. _Clueless_, she thought as she sat Indian style back on the floor and placed her laptop on her lap. She was dressed in what she liked to call "casual comfy"—her stretchy black yoga pants with J. HOPKINS printed on the rear, and a black spaghetti-strapped tank top that ended just above her belly button.

"So I was thinking, after you get off work tomorrow we could go out. You know, celebrate one last time before I have to head back. Nothing formal, just out to eat. Spend a little time together," he yelled from in the kitchen.

"Sure," she mumbled.

"What was that Ororo?" he called from the kitchen.

"SURE!" she repeated louder.

"Good. And why not ask Kathryn, Dr. McCoy, and Dr. Dayspring to come as well?"

"Yeah. I will be sure to ask them."

"Sounds good."

Ororo was barely listening. She had an appointment with Remy tomorrow. It both excited her and made her nervous. She was sure he wasn't angry with her anymore, not after she had left him a message apologizing. He hadn't call her back though, much to her dismay. It had been nearly a week and a half since their last meeting. He was certainly an interesting case to say the least. Her training had allowed her to see and know certain things about him, just from her uncanny, yet astute observations. Some of them were good, some bad. All she knew was she wanted to help him. See him be the best he could be. There was something very. . . pleasing about him. . . and his personality. She would make sure he was whole before her time as his psychiatrist ended, she would see to it.

Suddenly feeling inspired, she got up from the floor and grabbed her gym bag from her closet. She grabbed her keys and put on a light jacket, and headed for the door. Forge looked up at her as she grabbed a bottle of water from her refrigerator.

"Where are you going Ororo?"

"To the gymnasium."

"Have you finished your article?"

"No."

"Well are you going to eat?"

"No."

"Want me to come?"

"No, that is not necessary. Finish your dinner. I will not be long."

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure," she assured him. She gave him a brief kiss, a slight look of confusion on his face.

"Bye."

Forge watched as she closed the door behind her, just then his phone vibrated beside him on the table. He picked it up and looked at it—**Raven Darkholme** it read. He scoffed and shook his head as he turned his phone off, and rose to put his dishes in the dishwasher. He had to get prepared for tomorrow. . .


	16. Chapter 16

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **Thank you for reviewing everybody! A sad warning: Updates will be more scare as I am involved in something very time consuming and drastic in my personal life right now. Nope, nothing bad. Not at all, actually its to the contrary, but I just wanted to warn the readers. I will continue the story, so keep a look out for updates! This chapter reads weird (sorry) Oh, and I love fluff and harlequin-esque romance, so your forewarned in this chapter :D Thank you for your interest guys, enjoy - _AshraAstarte_

**NOTES:** _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 16 -**

Remy had wanted to call her back when he first received her message. But he couldn't bring himself to. She had sounded so sincere in her apology, obviously she had been aware of his mood that day he swiftly left her office. She was a psychiatrist after all. He had listened to her message repeatedly, relishing in the sound of her voice. But he was still angry, well—more hurt than angry. That day he had walked her to her car, he had thought she had opened up to him. She had laughed and joked like they were old acquaintances. It had felt good. She was even more beautiful, if that was possible, when she smiled. He wanted to draw out that side of her once more. He was adamant he hadn't imagined the prolonged stares between them, the blushing. . . the chemistry. He had made up his mind. He wanted her. He didn't care how long they had known each other or that she was his doctor. Somehow, he knew her. As strange as it sounds. He knew her. He knew she was passionate. He knew she was lively. He knew she felt deep. Something incredible stirred within her. The energy she unknowingly emanated was electrifying and refreshing, and he wanted it, craved it—every second of everyday. . .

He needed to find out more about her—to know her. Reading her biographical pamphlet every night wasn't enough.

He had arrived at her office today with warring emotions and feelings. Anger and joy. Pain and pleasure. Depressed yet determined, but always, always filled with want. She was in a session with another patient right now, for he had come very early before his own appointment was scheduled to begin. He would just wait here, wait for her, and hope he could behave normally when he finally got to see her.

* * *

Kathryn watched as the devilishly handsome man shifted anxiously in his seat, his body language varying from relaxed to tense every few seconds. His visage had displayed so many emotions within the last hour and twenty minutes he had been waiting that Kitty had lost count of them. She continued to answer phone calls and type documents, but occasionally she would risk a glance at the conflicted man. Her gut instincts told her it had something to do with Ororo, what it was she did not know.

She remembered how he had stormed out of the office nearly two weeks ago, the breeze strong as his body traveled towards the entrance, his face set rigidly. She had secretly wondered what had caused his change in attitude. Before when he had checked in the charismatic man had been beaming and whistling happily; anxious to see his quote, "Dr. Munroe." He hadn't even waited for Ororo to come out of her conference call, allowing Kathryn to notify her of his arrival. He had simply, on his own accorded, bounded down the hallway whistling, making his way to the young doctor's office. Now he had a troubled look of contemplation on his face.

The day he left abruptly, Kitty had wondered what would have made him come in happy, yet leave upset. She hadn't a clue until she watched as Ororo's boyfriend, Forge, had come into the waiting area, and remained there until Ororo and him had departed together. Then it suddenly hit her, this Mr. LeBeau must have been displeased at the appearance of Forge. She had smiled inwardly, her assumptions slowly being confirmed. The handsome man liked Dr. Munroe, and Kitty understood completely. Since Ororo had come to Valhalla Kathryn and her had spontaneously hit if off. Ororo was breathtakingly gorgeous, kind, extremely intelligent, and warm-hearted. Salt of the earth. She hadn't seen Ororo do anything short of perfection in the brief amount of time she had known her. A relationship between the two though was practically an impossibility.

1. Ororo was with Jonathan

2. He was her patient

and

3. She was his doctor

And last but not least, Ororo would in no-way shape or form allow it to happen. . .

* * *

Ororo walked side-by-side with her newest patient as they left her office, chatting amiably. The woman's name was Yukio Ishikawa, and already Ororo was deathly sure of it—this one was a "Wild One." Yukio was born in Tokyo, Japan, but had been living in the United States for several years. She was not a resident of New Orleans or Louisiana for the matter, she had relocated temporarily at the request of her employers. Apparently it was a constant in the woman's line of work, whatever her area of employment was (Ororo did not know yet) and she had just arrived in New Orleans where she would reside until her superiors instructed her to go to yet another city.

The brunette with the stylish severely cropped pixie had been referred to Valhalla Psychiatry by close family who believed Yukio needed therapy for her 'devil-may-care' lifestyle. From what Ororo had deduced Yukio was extremely wild and reckless, often endangering her very life with crazy stunts and seemingly "Evil Kinevel" type feats. Ororo had connected with the women immediately and sincerely hoped she would be able to help the woman before she tempted the hands of fate one-too-many times, for she seemed a very companionable and friendly woman despite her being wild and free-spirited.

". . . It is a awesome experience. The free fall is amazing. Nothing is quite like the experience of flying. . . "

"I suppose so. . ." Ororo nodded to the woman in agreement, "Well Ms. Ishikawa -- "

"Yukio," she retorted amicably.

"I am sorry. Its just something we try to implement here, use of proper titles, but. . . I will call you Yukio if you will call me by my first name—Ororo."

Yukio and Ororo made their way towards Kathryn's desk where she explained to Yukio that Kathryn would be the one who would set up their appointments from here onward, Yukio then asked Ororo out of the blue, "Your name is quite beautiful, sounds foreign, may I ask the meaning. . ."

As Ororo opened her mouth to respond she was interrupted by a deeply accented drawl, "It means 'beauty' righ' Dr. Munroe? An' ain' she jus' de picture of it?" Remy stated as he sauntered over to the two women, dark eyes piercing Ororo's.

"Yes - yes it - it does," she replied, never breaking their gaze, "Ms. Ishikawa this is Mr. LeBeau."

"Good to meet Mr. LeBeau," Yukio spoke, eyes appreciatively beholding the gorgeous man before her.

"D'accord chére," he spoke in return, kissing her hand as he gave her one of his signature winks. He immediately turned his attention back towards Ororo who stood very still and erect. "So Remy guess it be my turn, non?" said Remy addressing Ororo in respect to their consult. He smirked at her.

"Uh - Kathryn will get you all set up for our next meeting Ms. Ishikawa. I must be leaving, but I'm very glad to have met you and I anticipate our future meetings. Good day to you."

"Thank you, you too," she said, shaking Ororo's delicate hand. Ororo glanced back at Remy who stared at her unabashedly. "Mr. LeBeau. . . shall we begin?" Ororo led the way to her office, already feeling tingling sensations roaming her body as she felt the heat Remy's gaze on her backside as she walked to her office. She entered her office and turned around upon hearing Remy gently shut her door. For a moment he just leaned on the door, staring at her. He perused her slowly, drinking in every glorious detail that was Ororo Munroe's perfection. He felt himself stirring as he did, already feeling on edge. Ororo watched him as he blatantly gawked and admired and felt warmth flood her cheeks at his perusal. She cleared her throat and sat down behind her desk.

"I presume you want to do it in here?" she asked casually. His eyes brightened in response and his lips twisted into a devilish half-grin.

"I meant - the - the session of course," she corrected herself. Why did she get so unsettled when he was around? Remy chuckled and strode over to her desk where he took his usual seat.

"Oui. May Remy take dis off chére?" he asked in reference to his duster.

"Of course, the coat rack is in the corner," she indicated with a jerk of her head in the direction of the coat rack.

"Merci."

He stood directly in front of her desk and slowly eased out of his duster, eyes never leaving hers. Making sure she saw him. She lowered her head staring at the surface of her desk as she noticed the rippling abdominal muscles under his shirt and his sleek biceps as the coat slipped from his arms. He smiled inwardly at her reaction.

As he made his way towards the coat rack, Ororo took the opportunity to compose herself. . . she closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. He was just returning when she opened them. Calm. Collected.

"I hope you received my voice mail message Mr. LeBeau. I called you about a week back to apologize for our - our. . . interruption that Friday. I sincerely apologize for the mishap, I had not expected Mr. Raincloud to appear in my office that day, he lives in Baton Rouge and thought it clever to surprise me at work. I hope our. . . actions. . . did not offend you too greatly."

Remy stared at her. Upon the mention of Friday's catastrophe and her boyfriend Forge Remy's jaw clenched noticeably, hot flashes of anger radiated through him at the remembrance of the copper-skinned man molding his lips to Ororo's.

His sudden displeased expression did not go unnoticed by Ororo who felt her peace over the situation being slowly chipped away. _I hope he is not angry still. . . Perhaps. . . that is why he did not return my message. . ._

Ororo overlooked his silence and continued on the way she knew how.

"So. How have you been Mr. LeBeau?" she asked politely, "It has been awhile since we last met," she said clasping her hands together on her shiny desk.

_So beautiful and. . . lovely, _Remy thought involuntarily as he gazed at her. Her hair was still pulled back into a bun. How he desired to see it freed! He shook his head. It was unfair that he had such reactions towards her. Even after her betrayal, why could he not stop himself from desiring her? He knew her apology to be sincere, and technically she had not done anything wrong, but still. . . He had felt slighted that ill-fated afternoon. Wasn't their attraction mutual? He had thought so. Still he was angry, and Remy didn't reason well when he was angry. His bitter mood got the best of him.

"Well. . . I saw my ex."

Ororo tensed slightly, continuing on, "And how was that experience? I hope it was not too uncomfortable for you."

"I slept wid her."

All movement by Ororo had ceased and she stared down at the paper she had begun to write on. Her heart sped up rapidly and her stomach clenched tightly. She dared not look up.

"Excuse me?" she queried, gaze still focused downward.

"I was drunk. Frustrated. She was dere. Dats all."

Ororo felt sick. What kind of man was this? She swallowed hard. Why was he behaving this way this morning?

"A - and why. . .did you do that? W - why were you frustrated?" she stammered.

He met her eyes directly. "It was on dat Friday." He let his ambiguity answer for him.

"_That Friday?" Oh. . . _Realization struck her. She slowly lifted her gaze to him. His face was impassive to the casual looker, but she was a doctor. He was hurt and angry. But why?

"So when you are frustrated and angry you drink and act out in haste. I presume it is usually to your detriment is it not?" she asked more coolly than she intended. He opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off, "You used your ex-girlfriend to vent your frustration about something that happened Friday, that was beyond anyone's control. That had nothing to do with you. Why would you do that?"

"Y' de shrink. Y' tell Remy why," he shrugged.

_So he wants to play that game does he? _

"Alright Mr. LeBeau. My professional opinion is that you have had a troubling past. You harbor hurtful secrets that you have yet to resolve. You keep your emotions at bay and hide them under a guise of charm, mysteriousness, and nonchalance. I knew from the moment I met you that you were a womanizer. Which is simply a part of your desire to feel, but you are deathly afraid of emotional attachment. So you have trysts with multiple women for your own hedonist pleasure while still being able to have them remain meaningless—which is simply your feeble attempts to keep yourself guarded and secured. Your wounds are deep, yet you treat them on a surface level—with alcohol, women, and standoffishness."

She released her frustration with him through her diatribe. Breathing heavily as she concluded. He started at her, his eyes dulled by sadness and blunt force truth. As her words reverberated through the air, she snapped back to reality. Ororo was immediately repentant. She hadn't meant to speak so hastily. What was wrong with her? Why did she suddenly feel so angry, and. . . wounded?

"Mr. - Mr. LeBeau I -- I apologize for my callous remarks. I - I do not know what came over me." She lowered her head in shame and sadness. This patient, this man—was making her practically delirious. She never encountered a situation like this with one of her patients before. Not until she had met him.

"Y' righ' chére."

"Pardon?" she asked timidly.

"Everyt'ing y' tol' me."

"I - I . . ."

"Y' really are good, eh?"

She observed his face. A small, sad smile had appeared upon it. His beautiful hair hanging down, concealing some of his dark eyes. The realization of how beautiful he was struck her with the force of a meteor, and her heart constricted in her chest. After a few minutes of silence a small voice could be heard as it uttered.

"You are. . . beautiful." It spilled forth before her brain had caught it, snapping her out of her reverie.

He stared at her intensely, eyes suddenly brilliant and bright. A genuine smile plastered on his face, all traces of anger and hurt gone.

". . . Venez encore?"

Ororo's heart thundered in her chest. She stammered nervously to find an explanation for her slip, "I - I, w - n - nothing, I -- Mr. L - LeBeau I was - thinking. . .thinking aloud." At her incoherent blustering she covered her face with her hands and exhaled deeply, emotions torrential inside her. Shame, embarrassment, confusion, desire, want, and fear.

All of the sudden, she heard the squeaking of a leather chair, and seconds afterward someone was tugging at the trembling hands that covered her face. Forcing her to turn in her chair. The scent of cloves, cigarettes, and musky cologne pungent. As he pulled her hands away she chanced a hesitant look at him.

Remy was kneeling at her chair. A warm smile on his face. His teeth, white and even. He grabbed her hands and folded them into his own. He slowly brought her hands to his soft, pink lips, observing them gratefully, and kissed her fingers tenderly, once—twice. Ororo trembled in her seat, a combination of shock, fear, and want. Her blue eyes were wide with fear and awe, as she locked eyes with the darkly mysterious man who kneeled at her desk.

"Remy's not beautiful chére. . . you are. . ."

Ororo could not speak. She tried. She failed.

Remy took in the visage of the woman before him. Her lovely frame was trembling as she sat. Her eyes wide, brilliant with anxiety. Her smooth sable skin. Her barely parted lips—rosy, pouty, shapely and full. Her large eyes, rimmed by sweeping dark lashes. _Wait. _

How hadn't he noticed before? He had never been close enough to see. The large blue jewels that were her eyes, were. . . strange. Her pupils. . . they looked. . . feline. She had blue cat-eyes.

_God she is remarkable! _

Remy searched the depths of those eyes. Fearing he would get lost, but not really caring if he did either. He could read them like an open book.

Passion. Fear. Power. Desire. Loneliness. Heartache. Secrets. Repression. Strength. Sorrow.

He could understand her with as much clarity and she could him now. Now that he had really seen for the first time. . . her eyes.

_Eyes._ His own.

He hesitated.

"Remy wan' t' show y' somet'ing ma chére. . ." he spoke in a near whisper.

She looked at him as he slowly let go of her hands. He lowered his head, his dark reddish-brown hair spilling forward, drawing a curtain around his face. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but he had to show her. He felt compelled to expose himself to her this way, something about her eyes, he simply had to.

Eye for an eye.

She watched as he worked. Wondering what he was doing. She saw an opaque round object on his finger. Now two. He swept his hair back with his other hand and slowly lifted his gaze towards her.

* * *

*** G a s p * . . .**

_Black. . . and . . . Red_

Ororo couldn't help herself. She carefully lifted her hands to cup his face. Complete silence adorning the room. Except for their labored breathing. She gently enclosed his face with her hands, as she brought his face level with her own. Staring back at her were fiery red and black eyes. Coal black. Ruby red. They blazed and glowed as they churned with fire and power in their centers. Ororo couldn't turn away. Her mouth open in shock and awe.

_He is - he truly is - . . . beautiful._

"Oh my. Remy. . ."

Upon hearing her use his first name so breathlessly, with awe, his eyes burned brighter, and he had trouble taking in breath. His heart pounded violently against his chest as she studied him in awe. Remy began to feel precariously dizzy.

She gave him a small, lopsided smile. "You are. . . A mutant. . ."

To Remy's surprise she didn't say it with disgust or repulsion, but with approval and wonder; with genuine affection.

"Oui," he choked out, hoarsely. His lungs were still having trouble processing the air.

_I knew he was special. . ._ she thought gleefully._  
_

She offered him her most dazzling smile at his confession. Forgetting everything. The session. The office.

He slowly pulled her close. Embracing her tightly. Molding against her. His nose crept up to her hair and he could've drowned in her scent.

_Jasmine. __***sniff* **__Vanilla. __***sniff* **__Sandalwood. _

Yes, everything was forgotten. The session. The office. Forge.

_FORGE!_

She drew back immediately. _What am I doing?!_

" I - I - forgive me Mr. LeBeau. I - you - we should be going."

Remy looked at her confused. He was still drunkenly dazed from the tangible and electrifying sensuality in the air. He was sure he had gone cross-eyed for a moment.

"Whats wrong ma belle? Tell Remy."

"Mr. LeBeau! You are my patient! I am your doctor! I - I am involved with - with Forge! I --" she didn't finish. She was at a loss for words. Was she actually behaving like this? In her office? With her patient?! Ororo felt sick at her behavior.

Remy stared. Bewilderment on his face. Apparently he didn't see the problem . . .

She scribbled quickly on a note and handed it to him.

"Here. These are the names of a few other psychiatrists I highly recommend. You should resume your treatment with them. I can handle the transfer process - -"

"No! Non!"

"Mr. LeBeau --"

"Its Mr. LeBeau now!? A couple o' seconds ago it was Remy!"

"Please, you must --"

"What chére?!" he bellowed, "Don' do dis!"

"Please lower your voice Mr. LeBeau. . ."

He grabbed her chair by the arms pulling her close to him. "Don' do dis t' me girl. Okay? Don'. Remy's sorry, I jus-- I jus --" he raked his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Y' kno' why I slept wid Anna on Friday?"

"Why?" she inquired curiously, the remembrance of his confession making her ill once more.

" 'Cuz I was. . . hurt. I was mad at y' but mostly at dat imbécile fo' kissin' y' righ' in front of my face. Dats why I tol' y' what I did earlier. To try an' make y' upset. Jealous - I was. . . jealous."

Man, his tongue seemed to always be loose when she was around. Why was he confessing his feelings so freely? At this point Remy didn't care. The thought of not seeing her regularly anymore had him panicky.

Ororo was stunned by his confession. She knew he was not a man who opens up easily. This whole situation was insane! A circus! Was this actually happening?!

"You had no need to be jealous Mr. LeBeau. And I am very sorry we behaved that way in your presence. It will not happen again, I assure you. This is all the more reason why you should see another therapist. I have done you harm --"

"Non! 'Ro don' hide! I kno' why y' tryin' to do dis. . ."

Ororo sighed. Suddenly very exhausted. She just wanted to curl up in her bed. She knew the answer as well, but she couldn't bare to hear it out loud right now. How had she allowed this?

"Remy's not goin' anywhere. Y' are my doctor. Mine. If y' refuse t' treat me, den I won' get no treatment at all!" he resounded in finality.

She bit her lip. She didn't want that. The man had issues he needed treated. She knew that more profoundly now than ever before. But what could she do? Hadn't she crossed the line? The boundaries?

She pinched the bridge of her nose. Willing herself to calm, think logically.

"Mr. LeBeau?" Remy stood at attention, listening to her. "Lets end the session for today. We can both go home, regroup, and clear our minds. I will call Kitty and tell her not to schedule you immediately. Allow me sometime to analyze the situation. . . to contemplate our arrangement. . . alright? Please?"

She looked at him pleadingly. Remy stared at her, thinking about nothing except the fact that she was devastatingly gorgeous to him.

Remy beheld her in both awe and sympathy. "Bien ma chére, bien," he sighed resignedly.

"Thank you."

He nodded, smiling. He walked to her, squeezed her hand, and gave it a lingering kiss.

"When will Remy kno' if -- when will we meet 'gain?" he asked, worried.

"I will contact you Mr. LeBeau."

He nodded. If that was all he could get for now he'd take it. He stood, how he really desired not to go but to stay—with her.

They stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do until the desk on Ororo's phone rang. She jumped a little at the sound.

He wanted to linger, but it was no use.

" 'Bye ma chére," he choked as he headed for the door. He gave her one last half-smile before closing the door.

"Goodbye Mr. Le-- Remy. . . " she whispered before answering the phone.

* * *

Translations:

Venez encore? - Come again?

imbécile - fool


	17. Chapter 17

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'm sorry that I haven't been able to update weekly as I planned. Even now, I probably won't be able to update as fast as you or I would like, but I am planning to complete this story! I thank everyone who has taken a interest, and is being patient with the lack of regular updates. I have the next chapter planned out, and I will begin typing it asap. I'm think I'm gonna have fun writing it *winks*

P.S. I have posted the 1st chapter to my sequel of "_A True Chance_." For those of you who liked "_ATC_" I have begun the sequel. You'll need to read "A_ True Chance_" before you read the sequel as it is a direct continuation. You can go to my profile under my stories to check them out. I really wish you would :D  
As always, enjoy & review. Oh & be checking for the next update, thanks guys - Ashra

**Notes:** _Italics _indicate thought, possible word emphasis

* * *

**- 17 -**

Logan had never seen Remy like this before. The closest he had ever even come to seeing the Cajun like this was when him and Anna had broken it off for what seemed like the umpteenth time in their relationship. Even so, this was strange. For the last 2 week and a half weeks Gumbo had done nothing but peek at his cell phone every five minutes. Whenever Logan would ask him about his recent cell phone obsession Remy would just reply, "Remy waitin' fo' a call, dats all mon ami."

But that wasn't all and Logan knew it however, but he would simply shrug his shoulders and act nonchalant about the whole matter. Remy was virtually a stranger at his own bar, leaving Henri to pick up the slack—not that Henri minded, it made him feel "big" running Remy's bar. He usually just went about blowing Jean-Luc's money, at least this gave him something worthwhile to do.

Remy was noticeably anxious, and was distracted whenever someone attempted to engage him in a conversation. When he wasn't looking at his phone he would pace up and down quite frequently and run his fingers through his hair. He would sigh and huff, and look at his phone some more. Finally, Logan had had enough. One particular day while Logan sat watching the Detroit Red Wings score against the Calgary Flames (much to his dismay) he decided to get to the bottom of this, at least while the commercials ran.

"So what's been going on Gumbo?" Logan questioned as he sat down with a fresh beer.

Remy looked at him blankly. "Wha' y' mean mon ami?"

"What do I mean? I mean ya looking at yer phone every couple minutes. I mean ya actin' all weird and distracted all the time lately. Oh and did I mention ya looking at yer phone every couple of minutes?"

Remy sighed in annoyance. "Didn't Remy say dat he was waitin' on a call?" he clipped.

"Yeah ya did. Still don't explain why you've been acting all anxious and stuff. Must be some important call," Logan responded sarcastically, a mischievous smile on his face.

"Y' could say dat," Remy responded in turn, hoping Logan would end his inquiry. His situation with Ororo was his business and his business alone. Logan wouldn't understand anyway.

"This don't have anything to do with those therapy sessions you go to does it?" Logan asked, curious. He stopped flipping through channels as he waited for Remy's response.

"(. . .) " Nothing.

"Remy?"

"(. . .)"

"Cat got yer tongue Gumbo?" Logan responded, laughter in his voice.

"Merde . . . Look Logan, Remy waitin' on a call. Dats it, dats all. It be my business, plus y' probably jus' sniffin' after somt'ing t' tell pére anyway. Well, dere ain' not'ing t' tell, bien?" Remy replied coolly, eyeing Logan levelly.

Logan snorted. "Somebody's touchy. Fine. Don't tell me." Logan shrugged turning his attention to the game at hand.

Remy nodded his approval and left the house to take a mind-clearing spin on his Harley. He had been taking a lot of those since that session—the last time he had seen or talked to Ororo. She had said she would contact him after she got her head together and Remy had reluctantly agreed. Personally, he didn't understand what it was she had to get her mind together about. In all honesty they hadn't even really done anything inappropriate. But Remy knew enough about Ororo that to her it was probably second to being caught in full on make-out mode. He grinned, delighted by the thought of making-out with Ororo. Today he thought about it, but yesterday he had actually dreamed about it to make matters worse. Now he was more on edge than ever. He wouldn't let her get away so easily. Remy lit a cigarette kinetically, the action bringing to memory the way Ororo had reacted when he revealed the eyes that his mutation had bestowed him.

Ororo had gasped at first, shocked and surprised. She had then placed her delicate hands on either side of Remy's face and smiled gently at him as she took in his red and black orbs. She knew he was a mutant and to Remy's surprise she wasn't repulsed; on the contrary, she seemed pleased, delighted at the revelation. She had called him. . . "Beautiful". . . Remy's stomach fluttered at the memory. Remy LeBeau had been called many things in his life, "White Devil", "Swamp Rat", and a few other less-than-pleasant names, but "beautiful". . . that was a new one. Sure he was devilishly handsome, he was self-assessed enough to know that but. . . they way she had said it—it sent shivers up his spine just thinking about it; her soft, sultry alto declaring his "beauty", so breathlessly, practically in a whisper, as if she had let him in on a secret of hers.

Remy had opened up and shown Ororo something that only his family and Logan ever had seen or known about. Anna had only seen his natural eyes once, and that was by accident. He had forgotten to put his contacts in one morning as he awoke. It was still dark outside and Anna had turned over only to scream and jump out of the bed as two eyes glowed eerily red in the night. He immediately had clicked on a nearby lamp calming her down and explained why they were the way they were. After his concise explanation she had curiously asked to see them once more. Remy had shown her hesitantly per her request but she hadn't been able to meet his eyes directly when he did. Not that he was surprised, whenever someone met the gaze of his natural eyes for some reason they could never hold it. Everyone, even his family found it difficult too. Only one person had ever met his gaze and could continue to stare and hold it directly with bold captivation and that sole fearless creature had white hair and blue eyes.

* * *

Ororo never went out with Forge the day he headed back to Baton Rogue. After her session with Remy she had made up some flimsy excuse about not feeling well and after making numerous apologies kissed Forge goodbye and promptly made her way to bed, her mind reeling. Forge had been upset though he had tried to disguise it, she knew he had been looking forward to spending one last day together before heading back, but unbeknownst to her it was more than that.

Ororo crawled into her bedding after shedding her work clothes but the rest she had longed for evaded her, much as it had everyday since their session. She wondered what he was doing, what he thought of her lack of contact, but what could she say to him?

_Mr. LeBeau, even though you are my patient and I am your doctor I am very much attracted to you and it seems every time we end our sessions I go home and all I can do is dwell on our time together? I find you intriguing and handsome and I secretly adore that accented drawl of yours very much—even that oh so unique way you speak in third person. I was very much attracted to you before I saw those beautiful eyes of yours, but now it seems that I even see them when I close my own eyes?_

Yeah. Right. She wasn't even supposed to be feeling this way after all. Wasn't she with Forge? She felt awful having to turn down his offer for dinner that night, but she simply couldn't form a cohesive thought in her head after she had met with Remy. He was not only charming and beautiful, but he was a mutant . . .

_The same as . . . never mind that . . ._

After some grueling deliberation Ororo had figured it wise that she still meet with Remy regularly, _but _she would have to lay down some new rules and redefine some pertinent boundaries if this was to be. If he could not agree to them than she would have to relinquish her position as his therapist, even though it was definitely not something she wanted.

Ororo had worked furiously and relentlessly within the last week, hoping that in attacking the mountain of work she had accumulated it would drive Remy out of her mind. It had worked, kind of. Ororo scoffed at her pathetic dwindling attempts at discipline, something she had worked to have her entire life. It was essential she remain in control at all times . . .

Ororo glanced up from her pile of paperwork as her phone rang on her desk.

**Ororo: **"Hello, this is Ororo."

**Kitty: **"Hi, Dr. Munroe."

**Ororo: **"Hello, Kathryn."

**Kitty: **"Look, I'm sorry to bug you but Mr. LeBeau has left another message for you at the office. He has been asking for you each time he calls. He even came in today. Should I schedule him to save you the hassle?"

**Ororo: **"Uh - no Kathryn that will not be necessary. I am figuring he is just wanting to inquire about something he asked me the last time we met. I carelessly have not responded to him about it yet. I will take care of it. I will be sure to let you know when to make his next appointment after I have had a chance to speak with him. If he calls again just direct his calls to my office voice mail and I will be sure to get in touch with him soon, okay?"

**Kitty: **"Sure thing Dr. Munroe. And just to let you know, he sounded kind of . . . I don't know . . . strange . . ."

Kitty waited on the other end expectantly, hoping Ororo could enumerate.

**Ororo**: "Hmm, I guess I should contact him sooner than planned then. Thank you Kathryn. I will see you tomorrow."

**Kitty: **"(. . .) Alrighty. Bye."

Ororo let out a tired sigh. She had no sooner placed the receiver back in place before her cell phone rang. The screen read: **JONATHAN RAINCLOUD**

* * *

As Ororo took a break from her work she laid in her bed replaying all the peculiar recent events she had experienced in the past weeks. She mindlessly toyed with her white strands of hair as she mused. How things had gotten so complicated was beyond her. She was offered a great job, at a great facility, with great co-workers. She had made new friends in Kathryn, Dr. McCoy, and Nathan. She loved the comfort her homey condo afforded her and, even though she frequently missed being back in Baltimore amongst her friends and family she knew they were well, happy, and thriving. Ororo was tentatively mending her relationship with Forge as well and aside from his overbearing nature at times things were going well for them.

Then Remy happened or rather, Mr. LeBeau. Remy, the mysterious, darkly handsome Cajun with the silky, red-brown hair, tall, hard body, and trademark smirk—oh and how could she forget . . . fiery ruby-coal eyes. That was just the thing . . . she could not forget. Not the rakish hair, not the tall, hard body and defiant smirk, and most certainly not his eyes.

_I wonder what his mutation is?_

If she could dredge up the courage, perhaps she would ask him the next time they saw each other. She could not avoid Mr. LeBeau forever, and it wouldn't be right to. She _would _be the professional, she owed that to him. It wasn't Remy's fault that she was lonely. Ororo pinpointed loneliness as the culprit that had made her act in such a way the last time they had met. The same culprit that had reared its ugly head the day he had walked her to her car; it seemed like forever ago now. The few days Forge had visited her she had thought that constant ache of loneliness she felt constantly would have dissipated, surprisingly to Ororo it didn't. Not when he embraced her, not when he kissed her, not when he held her hand. But she guessed Jonathan couldn't be at fault for that, it was she who always locked herself away. Wasn't she the cause of her own loneliness? Suppressing and repressing herself all the time for fear of - -

No matter. When Jonathan had phoned her earlier, he had been calling to tell her that he had business in nearby Jefferson, Louisiana and informed her that he would like to see her briefly as he made his return to Baton Rouge.

_____

_**Forge: **__"Since you were under the weather when I left I figured we could go out and have dinner when I drop in to see you. If. . . that's alright with you Ororo."_

_**Ororo: **__"Of course its alright Jonathan. I told you how apologetic I was for not going with you the last time—I would not do that to you again."_

_**Forge: **__"Well, now I have an incentive to hurry up with this work so I can come and see you."_

_**Ororo: **__Ororo chuckled, "My. This coming from the affectionately dubbed "Maker?" Mr. Work first, play later? Has time in Baton Rouge turned you into mush?" Ororo chided playfully. _

_**Forge: **__" (. . . ) No Ororo. You have. (. . . ) I love you, you know?"_

_**Ororo: **__"(. . .) Yes, I do. . . "_

_**Forge: **__" ( . . . )"_

_*** Uncomfortable silence ***_

_**Ororo: **__"( . . .) and - and I you . . ."_

_Forge smiled brilliantly on the other line. Ororo knew he had expected her to return the sentiment by his awkward pause on the phone._

_**Forge: **__"Good! So tomorrow then."_

_**Ororo: **__"Tomorrow."_

_**Forge: **__"'Til then Ororo. I love you."_

_**Ororo: **__". . . You too. Goodbye Jonathan."_

_______

Now Ororo not only had to contact Remy LeBeau tomorrow, which she was admittedly anxious about, but she had dinner arrangements with Forge. Unbeknowst to Ororo, Jonathan had plans for their dinner tomorrow. But both Jonathan and Ororo was ignorant as to what tomorrow would bring—for the both of them.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.

**A/N: **Thank you all for your reviews and your patience with me and my updates. _Slightly_ - I LOL'ed at your comment =) Thanks to _Hall, Bella, StormingtheGambit, Whatever-life_, and _Daddygal _for your reviews. *Bows gratefully* I was going to combine this chapter with the next but I thought it was more suspenseful this way :D Oh and please don't kill me for this chapter, I'm sure you'll get what you want as far as Forge and Ororo are concerned in the next chapter. I really do appreciate your reviews and interests, I'm writing three stories simultaneously while balancing work, school and other stuff so please bare with me. Enjoy, Ashra.

* * *

**- 18 -**

"Are you sure you won't come with us?" Ororo asked Nathan as she began gathering her things to leave. Forge was taking her to dinner and afterward Hank and Kathryn were to meet them at a bar.

"No, no. I wouldn't want to impose on you and your . . . boyfriend's time together," Nathan responded stiffly.

"It would hardly be imposing Nathan. Kathryn and Hank will be there as well. Please, it would be a pleasure if you would join us."

Nathan looked at her pleading crystalline blue eyes and found his resolve faltering. "Are you certain Ororo?"

She smiled kindly up at him, "I am."

He returned her smile involuntarily, he couldn't help it. "So what are your plans again?"

"Well, after Jonathan and I have returned from the restaurant, we were planning to meet Dr. McCoy and Kathryn at a bar Kathryn's fiance had suggested."

"You? A bar?" Nathan didn't know Ororo as well as he would like to, but he knew for certain that Ororo would not frequent an establishment such as a bar.

"Yeah, I know. Trust me, it was not my idea," she laughed, "but supposedly it is one of those nice bars, a lounge type thing."

"I figured. Well . . . If you insist and if you wouldn't mind having me - -"

"I do insist. And I do not mind having you," she smiled. Nathan returned her smile.

"I suggest you just follow Kathryn and Dr. McCoy, that way you all can arrive together."

"I will then."

"Good! Good. I will see you later then Nathan," she waved as she walked towards the entrance.

"Bye Ororo." Nathan stared after her wistfully before heading back to his own office.

* * *

Ororo exited the building heading towards her BMW, heels clicking against the asphalt. She remembered walking this same path to her car with Remy all those weeks back. She remembered their laughter and the gentle way he had stroked her face. Unconsciously, Ororo lifted her hand to the place on her cheek he had caressed all those weeks ago, her skin seemed to burn at the memory of it. Ororo shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the thought as she entered her vehicle. She hadn't contacted Remy yet; she wanted to, Lord knows she wanted to. She had even picked up her phone and began dialing, but never finished the call. Instead, she put down the phone and gave a loud, audible sigh of frustration. She wouldn't know what to say. She wanted to apologize, she wanted to explain . . . she wanted to hear his voice. That deep, sultry, seductive drawl that was Remy's voice—that made her feel as if she would melt. Instead, she busied herself with thoughts of Forge and their dinner after work, which she was now driving home to change for.

Ororo arrived home and put her things away as she drew water for a bath. She laid her dress out on the bed as she piled her long, waist length hair into a bun in preparation for her bath. She only had two hours before Forge arrived, but she wanted to soak for a bit, and not think about how much she'd rather it be Remy she was to meet and not Jonathan.

Ororo had just dabbed perfumed oil on her neck when she heard the ding-dong of her doorbell. Grabbing her purse and smoothing down her dress she walked to her door and opened it. She was greeted with a hug and kiss as Jonathan drew her to him tightly. He was dressed very nicely in black dress pants and a dress shirt.

"Good to see you too Jonathan," Ororo giggled.

"Ororo . . ." he held her at arms length admiring her beauty and gorgeous figure in her stretchy beige dress.

He kissed her tenderly again as he took her hand in his, "Lets go, love," he smiled as he walked with her to the elevator. "I have something very special for you tonight love. Very special."

Ororo just smiled sweetly at him and squeezed his hand tighter in response. She was glad to see him—she was—but she felt a little sick to her stomach at where her mind was focused right now. And right now, her mind was focused on Mr. LeBeau—Remy. She was upset with herself that on her way to dinner with Forge, and the warm, tender way he had greeted her, that she could still dwell on Remy and wonder where he was and what he was doing.

* * *

If Jonathan thought Ororo was distracted during their dinner he never mentioned it. He had taken Ororo to the gorgeous Belle Lumiére restaurant in Magnolia Park in New Orleans. The restaurant with its crystal chandeliers, white linen and glowing candle centerpieces was romantic and elegant, and Ororo's breath caught as she gazed around the lovely restaurant.

Ororo listened as best she could to Jonathan during their time at the restaurant, commenting where polite and appropriate. She ate an amount that seemed enough to convince Jonathan that she was enjoying her meal, even though she wasn't very hungry. The food was wonderful but there was another feeling occupying her stomach and it didn't leave much room for the exquisite food.

Her eye caught Jonathan's red wine and she smiled gently at the thought of Remy's eyes. Those magnificent red and black eyes—aglow with what seemed like fire and a flash fire of her own rushed through her at the memory of how he had looked at her on his knees that day at her office.

_Beautiful. _And he was. She smiled again, replaying the moment he had shown her his eyes over and over again. The way she had everyday since it happened.

Her fantasizing was interrupted by three well dressed men at their table softly playing violins. Ororo, startled, looked up at Forge who had come around their table and was bowing on one knee.

"J - Jonathan . . . What is going on?!" she stammered.

Forge smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box.

"Jonathan!" Ororo exclaimed, her blue eyes wide with surprise. The guests in the restaurant stared in their direction, smiling and whispering to each other as they realized what was taking place between the good-looking man and his beautifully, exotic woman in the center of the room.

"Ororo . . . I love you. I always have. I have never seen or known a more beautiful woman in all my life. Your grace and beauty is something of legend. I love you and I want you to be my wife."

"Jonathan," Ororo choked, she lowered her voice to a whisper, ". . . but - but all the - the problems we have had --"

He cut her off, "It doesn't matter love. We have our whole lives to work out anything that is wrong between us. I - I have made some mistakes," he lowered his head, "Many, many mistakes, but that is all in the past. Please, marry me Ororo. Marry me."

Ororo looked from the spectators, to the violinists, to Forge, and finally down at the marvelous diamond ring he had offered. Her heart beat fast and her head was throbbing. She cared about Forge, very deeply, but did she love him? She had never told him she did, even on the phone the other day, she hadn't really said it. And after all the turmoil they'd endured. . . They'd just gotten back together before she had moved to New Orleans!

Jean had told her that Jonathan was a good man, but he was not right for Ororo. He was not in touch with Ororo's spirit, and Ororo had a unique spirit. Not just anyone could understand it or her.

Ororo's racing thoughts fell once more to Remy. His dark smile. His handsome face. His shiny, auburn hair. His smooth, tanned vanilla skin. Those eyes that seemed to churn red with power. Her heart constricted as she saw his mental image in her mind, smirking at her as he winked. She looked down at Forge, his image paled in comparison. He didn't give her the flash heat of fire Remy did with just a glimpse of his defiant smirk. What was she doing?! Was she comparing her _**patient **_with her _**boyfriend?! **_

Ororo made her mind up, _No, not boyfriend . . . fiancé._

". . . Yes. Yes Jonathan, I will."

The restaurant erupted in applause as Forge smiled brightly and he slipped the diamond ring on Ororo's finger and came up to kiss her deeply. She allowed it and tried her best to return it.

Jonathan was her man. Had been for a long time, despite their break-ups. She couldn't have Remy. It wasn't right. He was her patient, she his doctor. A charming, mysterious and handsome man, but not _**her **_man. This way, she was bound to Forge . . . and Ororo would honor that bond, despite what she felt in her heart for another.

* * *

"Wha' de hell is all dis?!" Remy asked as he looked around his bar. A big **CONGRATULATIONS!** Banner hung from the top of the bar. Streamers hung prettily from the ceiling and balloons hovered around the entire establishment.

"Oh, this?" Henri spoke up, tucking in the last of the chairs, "Some guy called and said he wanted to celebrate his engagement here today. He got a couple of his woman's friends together and they set this impromptu shindig together. Nothing much, the guy apparently just wanted to surprise his girl before he heads outta town."

"Bien, bien."

"Stick around brother. This should be interesting."

Remy didn't want to stick around. Why should he have to suffer watching someone else's happiness when the one he wanted wouldn't even call him?

"Come on, Rem. We could use the help. The guy brought in some of his friends with him, they should be here in less than a hour."

"D'accord. I be in de office den. When dey come lemme kno'."

"Bien, mon frére."

Remy walked towards the back where his office was located. He flopped down into his chair, feet crossed on top of his desk. His mind once again turning towards Ororo. He'd left messages, been to her office, and left more messages. She had to be avoiding him. No matter, he catch her eventually, he'd make sure of it. He ran his hands through his hair and fished out a cigarette. He pulled his cell phone out and turned it on and checked as always too see if she'd called. She hadn't. He huffed in frustration. He sat back in his chair rubbing his face when his phone buzzed. He looked at it to see a voice mail message awaiting him. An unfamiliar number. He dialed his voice mail to hear the message:

"Mr. LeBeau, this is Ororo, I mean - Dr. Munroe --" Remy bolted up straight, dropping his feet upon hearing her name and voice, his heart soaring with elation and relief, he knew she'd call. After all this time, she'd called. He listened closely to the rest of the message,

"-- If you do not recognize the number it is because this is my cell phone. I apologize profusely for not contacting you since -- uh -- our last session. I - I have made my decision on the . . . matter and I would like to meet with you and discuss it. I have told Kathryn to expect your call and to schedule you as soon as possible. I look forward to seeing you Mr. LeBeau and I hope you are well. I will see you soon, goodbye."

Remy could have yelled his joy after listening to her call. Weeks of waiting and wondering, and confusion and she'd finally called. And she sounded sincerely sorry that she had taken so long to. He decided he would chide her about it the next time they met. Oh well, his wait was over. He immediately dialed the number to Valhalla Psychiatry to schedule his appointment. Hopefully he could get one for this week.

While Remy called the office, elsewhere Jonathan and his new fiance were en route to celebrate their engagement . . . at a bar in the heart of New Orleans . . .

* * *

Translations:

mon frére - my brother

bien - alright


	19. Chapter 19

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own the X-MEN or their characters, they belong to Marvel and all their respective owners. Unfortunately, I am making no profit from these works of fiction. Entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended whatsoever.  
**Author's Note: **Wow! I appreciate all the reviews & comments. I love reading the reviews, they are hilarious! Glad people are enjoying the story. Sorry for the wait, I will update the next chapter as soon as its completed (I've aleady started it). Thanks guys, enjoy - Ashra.  
**Notes:** _Italics _indicate thought

* * *

**- 19 -**

"Now, which bar is this exactly?" Ororo asked as Jonathan drove them to the bar where they were to meet Dr. McCoy, Nathan, and Kathryn.

Jonathan quit his happy whistling long enough to answer Ororo and began whistling again, "I don't exactly know the name of it, something French, as is everything in New Orleans."

"I love New Orleans . . . and I love French," Ororo said, reminded of Remy. Her heart fell a little, now that she and Jonathan were engaged all allusions and fantasies of Remy had to cease. She could continue being the doctor to him that she was supposed to be, and start being the fiancé Jonathan deserved, not one who constantly thought about another man—one who was a patient no less. She had called him in the restroom of the restaurant after accepting Jonathan's proposal. Upon just becoming Jonathan's fiancé Ororo knew anything she had thought about where Remy was concerned was finished. It gave her the courage to finally call him and begin scheduling their sessions again. Besides, apart from their personal issues he was still a patient in need and denying him treatment made Ororo feel more horrible than anything else she might have done.

Ororo glanced over at a clearly upbeat Jonathan who had been whistling cheerfully non-stop since she'd accepted his proposal. Yes, they could make this work—**she **could make this work. Things would become normal again, with her being what she was before all this—simply a good psychiatrist, with her life ordered and devoid of drama. Red and black eyes would no longer haunt her thoughts—it'd before Jonathan's face she saw now.

At least she hoped . . .

* * *

"CONGRATULATIONS!" Everyone screamed as her and Jonathan walked through the doors. Several of Jonathan's friends where present as well as Kathryn, Hank, and Nathan who looked extremely uncomfortable and peeved.

"Oh my God!" Ororo screamed as she turned to look back at Jonathan, who smiled slyly back at her. "A few of my friends came up with me, and I asked Kathryn and Hank to set this up on the spur of the moment to celebrate. You don't mind do you?"

"No, no," Ororo said smiling. She noticed several Valhalla employees and several of Jonathan's friends who came up to her and offered her their congratulations and greeted her warmly. She recognized Warren Worthington, Bobby Drake, and Lucas Bishop as old friends of Forge's. Each of them coming up to her offering their congratulations.

"Wow, you look good Ororo—very, very good," Warren said as he came up to her, hugging her tightly.

"You too Warren, you too," Ororo said, freeing herself from his overly tight embrace.

"How is Besty?"

"We aren't together anymore."

"Oh! I am sorry Warren."

"Nah, its okay. It was awhile back. Hey, looks like you'll be moving to Baton Rogue, eh? We'll get to see each other often then," Warren smiled.

"We - we have not discussed such as yet, obviously. We will have to see."

Warren nodded, eyes roaming liberally.

"Uh, please excuse me Warren . . . Kathryn!" Ororo called as she left Warren staring after her and went to Kitty hugging her tightly.

"I heard you had a part in this," Ororo said smiling at her friend.

"Just a little, were you surprised?"

"I was! A little over an hour ago he proposed and now we are celebrating it."

Ororo tried to sound enthusiastic for Kitty's sake and all the work she had done in helping arrange this, but it was all a bit much for having only accepted his proposal two hours ago.

"Where is Dr. McCoy and Dr. Dayspring?"

"There over here, come on." Ororo walked with Kathryn as they went to find and greet their colleagues.

* knock, knock *

"Yo, Remy?"

"Oui."

"There here, come help me out eh?"

"I'm comin' now."

Remy opened the door and followed his brother out into the main part of the bar were he could hear the lively crew celebrating.

"Remy you wouldn't believe this guy's woman. I'm telling you Rem, she is magnifique!"

Remy said nothing, she couldn't be anymore magnificent than Ororo, he smiled briefly at the thought. Remy made his way through the crowd to the back of the bar to help Henri. He scanned the happy crowd, his eye's widening in shock as he noticed the doctor Ororo worked with nursing a drink, looking absolutely morbid in the corner.

_De hell is he doin' here? _Remy thought wildly. He was about to walk over to him and ask him just that when a deep voice cleared its throat to get the crowd's attention. Remy glanced at the speaker and was beyond shocked and dismayed to see Ororo's boyfriend Jonathan up front speaking to the crowd.

"You look gorgeous by the way, Dr. Munroe," Kitty complimented as they made their way through the crowd.

"Thank you Kitty, I -"

But she was interrupted as Forge's voice permeated loudly throughout the bar.

"Thank you all for coming and being here to celebrate with me. I want to thank Kathryn and her fiancé Piotr especially for helping out with the decorations with only a brief notification ahead of time. "

Everyone clapped for a blushing Kathryn and her fiancée, who nodded their thanks, raising their glasses. Ororo clapped gratefully as well, beaming at Kathryn and Piotr.

"I'd also like to thank the owners of this fine establishment for opening its doors to us also with such a sort notice ahead of time." Forge motioned towards a brightly smiling Henri who bowed politely and a stone-faced Remy who was red with anger, eyes narrowed to slits.

_REMY! _

Ororo thought she would faint as her eyes fell on his face. She swallowed hard, her mouth fell open and she could only stand stiff as a board, trying to wrap her mind around Remy being there—at her impromptu engagement celebration! What could he be doing here?

". . . But I'd really like to thank the one whom all this is about. The most stunning, intelligent, wonderful woman on the planet. The one who has made me the happiest man on earth today by accepting my marriage proposal not two hours ago—my new fiancé . . . Dr. Ororo Munroe!"

Applause erupted and loud shouts of approval and whistling were heard as Forge held out his hand for Ororo to join him up front at the bar. The crowd parted for her and Ororo felt increasingly light-headed. She suddenly became sick on her stomach and tried her best to swallow down the bile that had risen in her throat.

The entire situation was intensely surreal and seemed to be in slow motion. Her newly acquired fiancé was beckoning for her to come to him and bask in their celebratory glow, her friends and colleagues clapped and hooted their enthusiasm, and one of her patients was five feet away glaring dangers at her, his face and expression hard. His lips were pressed tightly together, his body tense and rigid with steadily building rage. Ororo cringed as she chanced a peek at his eyes. His contact lenses were in, but his eyes were no less intense. Ororo knew that under those contacts, ruby and obsidian eyes were probably glowing hot as molten lava. Ororo quickly averted her own eyes as she began what felt like her last walk as she strode towards her waiting, bright-faced fiancé.

Why did it seem like it was taking centuries to reach him? It reminded her of an episode of Spongebob she had seen once. In the episode, Spongebob had forgotten how to tie his shoes. Figuring he'd remember the technique sooner or later he left them untied, carelessly not worrying about it. Unfortunately for him, Spongebob still had to work and make Crabby Patties. After making one Crabby Patty he beings walking towards a highly annoyed Squidward to deliver the patty to him. He takes his time, taking the smallest of steps so as not to trip on his untied shoelaces and drop the patty. He scoots along closer and closer until it seems he is near, when in reality he has seemingly not moved at all. Ororo had seen the episode and at the time had laughed hysterically, clutching her aching stomach, tears of laughter slipping down her face, shamelessly enjoying the fun and comedy. Now, she found herself in the same position only this time it wasn't as funny.

When Ororo finally reached Forge and took his outstretched hand, the beaming man proceeded to squeeze her tightly and dipped her low for a long, drawn-out kiss. Sounds of ooh's and awe's and additional wolf-whistles could be distinctly heard as Forge kissed Ororo long and hard.

Ororo's mind was racing and she tried frantically to find the up side to this—at least she didn't have to see the expression of unadulterated wrath and anger on Remy's face right now. Just the thought of it made her wince. When Forge finally released her and brought her back up she ignored Remy's side of the room at all costs. She wiped her lips and tried sincerely to offer her thanks to several people who had came up to congratulate her and Forge. The women asked to see her ring, inquiring greatly about all the romantic details of the proposal. Ororo complied the best she could, her mind a muddle of thoughts and emotions; a bitter mixture of fear, longing, and uncertainty.

Remy fumed and seethed behind the bar after seeing Forge kiss Ororo—once again shamelessly in front of his face! The bitter memory of the last time he had seen it flashing in his mind. He was so overcome with anger he shook and was completely ignorant of the charged bottle of Scotch quickly glowing magenta as it spread in his hand. The bottle exploded with a loud noise, glass and scotch going everywhere. Several women screamed, and others peeked curiously in the direction of the explosion. All was lost on Remy as he continued staring at Ororo.

Henri looked at him stunned, "Remy? Remy! You alright man? What happened? What's wrong?"

Remy didn't answer, his body still trembling with pent up anger, he had only tunnel vision as he headed straight for Ororo. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd angrily, determined to reach his destination with the utmost haste.

While a vexed Remy made his way through the crowd, a uncomfortably nervous Warren made his way towards his smiling friend.

"I - uh - I'm sorry to bother you Jonathan but uh - Raven . . . she's here man, I got Bobby keeping her at bay by the door. She uh - she wants to talk to you," Warren said under his breath as he leaned in close to his friend.

Forge's face fell, the color draining out of his face. He said nothing as he swiftly made his way to the door where Raven was waiting . . .

At his sudden absence Ororo turned to see where Forge had gone so quickly. She was about to follow in the direction he had went when a strong grip was felt on her arm and she felt herself being pulled away from the crowd. Remy was upon her, looking at her intensely, his tone no nonsense, "Come wid me now . . ." he commanded as his gaze pierced her unblinkingly. The tone of his voice was so cold and disturbing Ororo complied wordlessly, her heart pounding furiously fast.

His grip was hard and his pace fast as he drew her into a back office and let go of her arm long enough to slam the door shut hard, pictures rattling on the walls from the force of his slam.

He snapped around towards her, eyes flashing dangerously as he began his verbal assault.

"Wha' in de hell is goin' on chére? Wha' is de meanin' o' dis? Y' engaged now? An' not only dat, but wha'? Y' an' y' fiancé come t' my bar t' rub in my face? Y' don' call fo' weeks, no contact, no not'ing! Y' leave a message on my phone t' call y' office fo' schedulin' only t' come here an celebrate y' engagement wid y' new fiancé at **my** bar? Explain y'self 'Roro! An' it sure as hell betta be good chérie . . . It betta be good!" He yelled at her. His accent thick and hard.

Ororo blinked every time he punctuated his point. She had never seen him this way before and she was genuinely scared. His arms flailed around wildly and she prayed to God one of those muscled arms didn't collide with her. He looked at her wildly, expectantly, as he waited for her to speak. Her voice trembled nervously as she did her best to speak calmly, steadily. He was justified in his anger, and Ororo just hoped she could pacify him.

". . . I - I did not know it was your bar Mr. LeBeau. I -"

"Stop wid all dat Mr. LeBeau stuff! Dis ain' no doctor's office an' Remy ain' one o' y' patients right now! Wha' wid dis?" he asked, as he roughly grabbed the hand that held her engagement ring, holding it up to her face, as if to drive home his point.

She cleared her throat, " . . . I - I accep - cepted Jonathan's proposal today, he -" she dropped her head as her voice gave out.

"How can y' do dat chére? How can y' do dat t' Remy?"

Ororo stared at him apologetically, tears welling in her eyes, "Do what Remy? Marry a man I have been with for years?"

"Wha' do y' mean 'do what?' Did y' ever t'ink about Remy 'Roro? When he was kissin' y' in front o' all dem people—right in front of me—did y' t'ink about Remy?" he questioned, hitting his chest for emphasis, "Y' won' call or not'ing! Leavin' me on tenderhooks an' den y' show up wid y' new fiance on top of it! Did y' t'ink about me at all damn it?"

"Of course I did!" she yelled ecstatically, tears falling freely from her beautiful face. The sound of heavy rain could be heard as it pounded on the roof above them. "That is all I ever think about! You! Even when I am not supposed to! Even when you are just supposed to be my patient and I your doctor! Even when my boyfriend of several years is pouring out his heart to me at our engagement dinner! All I see is you, you and those eyes! The same eyes I see every time I close my own! I think about how it felt when you held my hand and kissed my fingers, when you touched my cheek. How one touch from you managed to stave off the loneliness I have felt for years! I cannot do that anymore Remy! I cannot allow myself the luxury of chasing some dream about you and I! It cannot happen anymore!" she wailed as she cried heavily through her tirade. Her chest and shoulders heaved with the force of her heavy sobs.

Remy looked at her in shock. His anger subsiding rapidly as he took in the poor and startlingly beautiful form in front of him. Even in her current state, she was unbelievingly gorgeous standing there in her beige dress, diamond studs in her ears, her glorious white hair arranged in an ornate bun atop her head.

She did care for him. The reality that she did hit him forcefully, made his heart soar. He wanted to hug her, embrace her, stop her crying. He realized suddenly how much he hated the sound, hated the way she cried brokenly over the ferocious pounding of rain outside.

He walked towards her cautiously, pulling her sobbing figure into his arms, embracing her tightly. She clung to him desperately as she rode out her sobs, crying all the more as she breathed in his delectable scent and the pang of how much she wanted him pierced her heart. His embrace was warm and strong. Full of comfort and heat. She buried her head deeper into his neck, breathing him in. Imaging him as someone else, not her patient, but as her lover. She grabbed his hair, running her fingers through the soft tendrils, desire coursing through her. Remy ran his hands up and down the small of her back, delighting in her desperate possessiveness of him. As close to him as she had ever been. He wanted her to want him—to want him as badly as he wanted her. He drew her closer, molding himself as close as possible, his own possessiveness taking over. She felt so incredibly good close to him this way.

". . . 'Roro . . ." he whispered. She shivered as she heard his gentle whisper. "Shhh chére. Its okay. Remy's here," he comforted her.

She slowly pulled away from his neck, looking up at him—searching his face. His stubbled, manly jaw, his delectably red lips. His reddish brown hair falling down into his wonderfully chiseled features. She unconsciously reached up pulling his hair away from his face and behind his ear, and continued to stroke the soft hair she had placed behind his ear.

Remy's pulsed quickened at her gentle touch, he looked down into her watery cerulean eyes. Strange eyes, like his own, but extremely beautiful and unique—like her. Clear and warm, despite the confliction he saw in them. As if in a trance he walked her back towards the wall, her back against firm against as he caressed her face with the back of his fingers.

_So very beautiful_, he thought as he watched her close her eyes in contentment, the rain had slowed down drastically and she was sure he could her heart beating.

" . . . I . . . I am sorry if I hurt you Remy. That is the last thing I would ever do," she confessed lowly.

"Its okay chére."

"Its not Remy. I am supposed to help you not hurt you . . ." she let go of him, much to Remy's dismay.

". . . Remy . . . I - I should not have done this. I - I have failed again. This - I was wrong, forgive me . . . I cannot do this Remy . . ." she sighed, shaking her head regretfully. "I have to go."

"Non, chére! Wait!" Remy spoke, grabbing her hand, halting her escape. He pulled her back closer to him.

"'Roro . . . Can' y' see? Y' are helpin' me not hurtin' me. By bein' wid me. Every time Remy's around y' . . . don' y' kno' how dat makes me feel? Why y' so scared girl?" he asked softly as he lifted her face to meet his gaze.

"Because Remy . . . I can get in a lot of trouble for crossing a boundary like this. And - and there is still so much we do not know about each other. You - you just got out of a relationship. You are simply reaching out for som-"

"Non chérie," he clipped, soberly, "Dats not true. Don' try t' be a psychiatrist now. Y' kno' wha' dis is. "

He spoke truthfully. She did know what this was. She had feelings for Remy and was trying to talk her way out of them. Trying to tie them to something else. She was losing the battle rapidly—her emotions were betraying her. . . With every pitter patter of the rain outside—a sign she had faltered in her resolve.

*** knock knock ***

"Rem. You okay in there?"

Ororo distanced herself quickly, wiping her face of any remaining tears before she opened the door and headed out briskly, excusing herself as she went to find Forge.

" 'Ro!" Remy called after her, and cursed under his breath in frustration.

"Y' alright mon frére? Y' kno' dat femme?" Henri asked puzzled.

"Oui." Remy answered, not bothering to explain. This wasn't over, he would give her a few minutes, then they were going to have another conversation. He headed out as well, readying himself to find and talk to her.

* * *

Upon searching for Jonathan to no avail, Ororo asked a couple people if they had seen Forge. A drunken Bobby informed her in his slurred speech, that her fiancé was outside of the bar talking to Raven. Ororo was immediately confused. What was Raven Darkholme doing here? And why was Jonathan outside talking to her? Could he not invite her in and speak with her? Ororo hastily made her way towards the door. Upon hearing raised voices, she slowed and quieted her walk in an attempt to hear more clearly. Why was Jonathan yelling? Ororo tiptoed closer to the sound where the voices were coming from and listened.

"I don't care Raven! You know better! I regret ever starting this with you, had I known you'd act like this -"

"You'd have what Forge?"

He looked at her unwaveringly, not answering.

"You knew what you were doing. I call your phone and you don't answer. You ignore me! Come to find out, you and your friends have taken a trip to New Orleans for a surprise engagement party!"

"That's none of your business Darkholme! Ororo's my fiancée and if -"

"And what am I Forge? What am I?"

"Lower your voice!"

"Forge -"

"You knew better than to come up here!" he interrupted, "Especially with Ororo just inside that building, are you crazy Raven? Are you crazy?"

"Its not like this was a one time thing Forge! I thought you - I thought you-" she trailed off, her voice quivering.

Forge looked at her incredulously and gave a condescending bark of laughter. "That I loved you?"

She lowered her gaze.

"Raven, this wasn't some - some mistress-is-going-to-replace-the-wife sort of thing. I love Ororo, the real Ororo, not the false one you change into when we have sex. I love her—making a terrible mistake with you isn't going to change that. Now get the hell outta here before I make your life a living hell! I'm not kidding Raven, leave now! And don't you ever pull a stunt like this again!" he growled.

A wounded Raven, ran speedily to her car and jumped in. Her tires squealed as she burnt out of the parking lot.

Satisfied, Forge turned around in an attempt to head back inside but the entrance was blocked by a trembling Ororo, anger and hurt rolling off of her in waves—the smell of ozone thick in the air . . .


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note: **See end of chapter  
**Story Notes: **_Italics_ indicate thought / **Bold **text indicates emphasis

* * *

**-20-**

Ororo felt violently sick. Her head was bowed low but she trembled violently, her shoulders heaving. Power coursed through her as the elements responded to her emotions. Thunder rumbled loudly outside, making Forge jump slightly at the ominous crack of thunder and dark roiling clouds that had begun to settle in. Her normally gentle blue eyes were milky white with power as she ominously lifted her head to meet his gaze. He stopped abruptly in his tracks, his mouth falling open in shock and dismay. A strong breeze was beginning to blow and strands of white hair were pulled from the fuming woman's ornate bun as the breeze whipped around it wildly. Electricity danced from her white eyes and fingertips as she looked on him.

" . . . O - O - Ororo . . ." Forge began fearfully.

"SILENCE!" she responded, her voice authoritative with power and indignation.

Lightning flashed across the sky and thunder boomed frighteningly close. Forge jumped, his ears ringing from the sound of thunder.

The lights in the bar flashed on and off from the electrical disturbance. People huddled together inside. The sudden intense thunderstorm disconcerting.

"Don' worry! Don' worry everybody! Jus' everyone stay inside!" Remy yelled over the crowd. He searched out Kathryn to ask where Ororo was, he couldn't see her anywhere in the crowd as he had sought her signature white hair.

"I - I saw her walk outside," Kathryn said worried, "She was looking for Jonathan."

"Alright, stay here, I go get her," Remy said as he hastily went to find Ororo. It was dangerous for her to be out in this. Remy walked outside and stopped short as he tried to take in what was before him. Ororo stood rigidly erect, stray strands of long white hair billowing around her wildly in the wind. Her usually stunning blue eyes were completely white and lightning flicked from them. Jonathan was five feet in front of her looking absolutely terrified. A bewildered Remy was about to call her when he heard her speak.

"How . . . could you, Jonathan? How could you?" she roared, tears slipping down her face. As if on cue, sheets of icy rain fell down in buckets upon the three, drenching them immediately.

"'Roro!" Remy yelled through the rain, he didn't know what was going on, but he had to get her attention, though a part of him was scared to. She was a mutant too?

" Ororo - O - Ororo I --"

"With her! So . . . that is what you have been doing while you have been in Baton Rogue? Is it Jonathan?

"(. . . !)"

. . . Answer me!" she demanded, a crack of thunder booming simultaneously.

" 'Roro! Please, its okay chére . . . listen t' Remy," he said cautiously, walking towards her, his eager hands outstretched. He had no certain conclusion as to what was going on here, or why at every spike of her emotions the weather seemed to respond in turn, but what he could tell was that it was wasn't wise to let things continue as they were. He also knew she was more hurt than angry, if his empathy was correct; perhaps he could temper her.

Startled by his call, Ororo gazed in Remy's direction, her eyes meeting his. He appeared concerned, worried, afraid even. Sobered by the look on Remy's face, Ororo forced herself to calm, and rein in the rapidly growing thunderstorm. Having suppressed her powers for so long, the abrupt resurgence of them was quite dramatic; she closed her milky eyes and drew on her control over the elements—the sound of thunder and crackle of lighting lessening, the rain becoming a slow, steady downpour.

As the storm quieted, Ororo hung her head once more. Strands of damp white hair falling into her face and she stood brokenly and wept. A culmination of frustration, hurt and anger, and general weariness baring on her soul. Her emotions felt like a bubbling, torrent inside of her, and she was embarrassed at her disheveled appearance and uncharacteristically extreme behavior. What must Remy think of her?

Remy gazed at her sadly, his actions torn between punishing the petrified man less than five feet away for whatever he had done, or comforting the weeping beauty before him. Deciding on the latter, Remy took off his drenched duster and wrapped it around the quivering woman, drawing her close into himself.

Her body was soaking wet, yet she still felt warm and inviting. He heard her sniffles, once again remembering with a pang how much he hated the sound of her crying. He shushed her gently, comforting her as best he knew how. He stroked her head delicately, gently, trying to project his concern and affection as much as he could. He just wanted to hold her and cuddle her someplace warm and safe, rock her until her hurt ebbed away.

Forge stood still, confused as to what he should do. His heart was still beating wildly in his chest from the elemental display he'd bore witness to a couple of minutes ago. Forge knew Ororo was a mutant, but he had never seen what powers she possessed before. She had told him it had something to do with the weather, but he knew it was a uncomfortable subject for her, so naturally they never spoke of it. He could only remember one time the topic had been broached and the discussion ended as soon as it began. He'd never seen anything like he had just witnessed. Still, watching the handsome guy he met in Ororo's office , stroking and caressing his girlfriend so tenderly riled him nonetheless.

He'd messed up big time with Raven and the whole situation had come to a nasty head, but still, he loved Ororo and she was his fiancé—who did this guy think he was?

"What are you doing with my fiancé? Take your hands off of her," he demanded, accruing Remy's attention.

Remy let out an indignant chuckle at the man's audacity, shaking his head lightly. He actually had the nerve to be jealous! No matter, Ororo was **his **concern now, he would see that her "fiancé" didn't bother her anymore.

"No time t' play de jealous game, mon ami. Remy t'ink it best dat y' be leavin' now homme, bien?" he cautioned, dark eyes glistening ominously in warning.

"I beg your pardon? That is my fiancé you're holding in your arms there and I --"

"No . . . not anymore . . ." Ororo commented, as she lifted her head from Remy's shoulder. Her eyes had returned to their beautiful blue, though now darkened with hurt and sorrow. She stepped away from Remy long enough to pull the stunning diamond from off of her finger, and threw it emotionlessly at the horrified gentleman's feet. The ring clinking as it bounced along on the wet pavement. Hard to believe that only a few hours ago she was just celebrating her engagement.

Forge stared down at the ring, feeling disgustingly nauseous. He gazed up at them both, mouth agape in disbelief.

"No - no Ororo . . . please . . ." he began, stammering. "Don't. Please. Please, don't do this," he began, slowly walking towards her.

"I wouldn't," she admonished, eyes flashing dangerously white.

He stopped immediately. Remy took her hand and drew her back in closer. The action not going unnoticed by Jonathan.

"Leave," she growled. Her tone serious. Face set.

Jonathan looked on helplessly. He didn't have a chance to rebut or refuse, as Remy began walking Ororo back towards the bar, neither of them sparing a glance in his direction. He dejectedly stooped to pick up the newly discarded ring and sadly placed it into his pants pocket. He began walking numbly to his vehicle, too hurt and confused to process any other sort of emotion. She would wear his ring once again. She would.

Remy began leading a disheveled and emotionally exhausted Ororo back into the bar. He was sure Kathryn and her other friends were probably concerned about their prolonged absence, especially with the ferocity of the now dispersed thunderstorm. He held her close, tightly in his arms as they walked slowly towards the entrance. They heard Jonathan's car start and the wet wheels sloshing through the murky water puddles as he began to exit the parking lot. Neither of them even bothered to turn around and see.

". . . Remy?" Ororo queried, her voice laced with weariness was barely a whisper.

"Yeah, chére?" he responded lowly, saddened by her weary state.

" . . . Can - can you just - just take me home please? I mean . . . I - I just want to go home, I do not particularly feel to face everyone in there . . . Not - not as I am anyway," she requested, looking down pitifully at herself.

"On second thought, do not worry about it, I will get Kathryn to take me home," she amended as she gingerly removed Remy's drenched duster and gratefully handed it back to him.

Remy gave her a look. A slightly sad smirk on his face. "Why y' wan' Kathryn t' take y' home chére? 'Fraid how it'll look wid Remy drivin' y' home?"

Ororo didn't even attempt to look him in his face. The more she did, the more she seemed unable to tear away.

"Remy," she began softly, "I will be honest with you," she paused, "I do not . . . trust myself with you right now. It - I am the one who is weak . . . and yes, that does concern me as well."

It both embarrassed and shamed her to admit such a thing out loud, but she realized they were both probably way past false pretenses right now. Personally, right now, Ororo felt honesty was truly the best policy.

" . . . Y' kno' . . . we got a lot of t'ings we gotta talk 'bout chére . . ." he admitted to her gently.

" . . . Yes - I understand."

"I know dis ain't de best time or place, but . . . let Remy take y' home, chérie. At least let Remy do dat."

". . . Remy . . ." Ororo began in protest, but was interrupted with the door to the bar swinging open and Kathryn emerged with her fiancé Piotr, and a confused Hank and Nathan. "Dr. Munroe! Wha - are you alright?" Kathryn asked worriedly, hastily coming up beside Ororo, noting with concern her pitiful and drenched state.

"Ororo," Nathan said, as he walked around Hank to join Kathryn at Ororo's side.

He hugged her gently, much to Remy's annoyance as he looked on at the concerned doctor carefully rubbing Ororo's bare shoulders.

"Yes, yes. I am fine. I do not feel well though. I am extremely appreciative of the - party but I am afraid I must go home. I feel . . . tired," she offered, hoping to explain the surreal turn of events later . . . much later.

"O - okay . . . where is Jonathan?" Kathryn asked, completely ignorant of the events that had taken place during the boisterous storm.

Remy cringed at the question, for Ororo's sake. He knew that was probably the last thing she wanted brought up right now.

"Gone," she supplied, no emotion to her tone whatsoever.

The small group was silent at her answer, the tone of her voice making clear something had gone terribly wrong. Something they were completely unaware of.

Remy cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Remy can take her home. My brother will close up de bar."

A small smile graced Kathryn's lips, she knew that Mr. LeBeau had a thing for Ororo. She hadn't realized until tonight that the "engagement party" was to take place in his bar. _How ironic_? she thought cheerfully. _Looks like a sign to me . . ._

"I could do it," Nathan offered quickly in turn. Too quickly. Hank and Kathryn turned to him surprised. Remy scowled.

"Anyone of us would be glad to take you home Ororo," Hank added politely.

"I appreciate it," she nodded, "but --" she stopped as her eyes fell on Remy's hopeful face. How could she say no to that?—to him? Even though it went against her better judgment she found herself saying, "Mr. LeBeau, if you do not mind extending your graciousness once more, I will take you up on your offer. I have to go in and pick up our mess after all and as it may be late when I finish, I would not want to keep you all waiting for me," she said decidedly.

Remy smiled—that sly, handsome smile. The one he gave when something truly pleased him, "Oui, sounds good t' Remy," he said delighted.

"No! You go on Ororo . . . I will clean up, Mr. LeBeau can go on and take you home," Kitty spoke up.

"No . . . you helped with all this to begin with, I--"

"-- No, no," Kathryn insisted, "Its fine, there isn't much to do anyway. Go on with Mr. LeBeau here," Kathryn said, glancing at a seemingly satisfied Remy.

"I could --" Nathan began, but was cut off by Remy.

"Come on, ma chére," Remy beckoned Ororo, leading her out of Nathan's hold of attempted comfort. Nathan let his arms fall limply to his side as he once again watched the charming Cajun gentleman walk away with Ororo, leaving him alone and jibbed. Again.

"Thank you all, very much. Good night," Ororo called over her shoulder as Remy led them to his waiting Lexus, thank God he hadn't driven his Harley into work today. Not that he minded, but he was sure Ororo wouldn't fancy a ride home in the damp night on the back of his bike.

Remy watched her out of the corner of his eye as they walked together, both of them silent. Even appearing tired, wet, and sad, the woman was no less beautiful than she was when he first saw her tonight. His heart leapt at the thought, this woman was truly something else. The effect she seemed to have on him was unsettling.

Remy chivalrously opened the passenger door for her as she muttered her "thank you" and entered the car. He walked to the driver's side, getting his keys out of his pocket as he prepared to take her home.

* * *

The silence wasn't the least bit awkward as Remy maneuvered the pristine Lexus, freshly washed by the impromptu rainstorm, around the slick streets of New Orleans. There was an easy atmosphere between the two, even in Ororo's less-than-pleasant mood. She didn't feel anger or even particularly hurt, she felt . . . numb. When she thought of Forge—that was all she could describe it as—numbness.

Of course, having Remy right next to her helped too. His presence always left her feeling . . . fulfilled. Would complete be too strong a word?

"Thank you, Remy. For this. I - I am sorry for . . . all this - this fiasco . . . for bothering you with all this mess tonight," she apologized sincerely.

"Shh chére, its not y' fault. Dere worse fates Remy could face den drivin' home a beautiful lady tonight," he answered, dripping with his usual charm. He looked over at her and smiled. Ororo's breath caught. Damn that smile. She offered him a weak, watery smile in return. The man was beautiful . . .

"Dat was some storm . . ."

Ororo said nothing as she stared straight ahead.

"Even Remy got scared dere fo' a moment," he glanced at her.

"There was no need, Remy . . . I would never hurt you," she confessed. She blushed as soon as the words tumbled from her mouth. She lowered her eyes in embarrassment, cursing herself inwardly.

Remy grabbed her left hand and squeezed tightly. Playing with her delicate fingers.

"S' okay chére," he stated softly, but no less emphatic. Her words legitimately touched him. Couldn't say he was used to such sentiments, and they were nice, especially coming from her.

So she had something to do with the storm. Not that it wasn't obvious, but still. That was some display, whatever mutant ability she had was incredibly remarkable. He wondered what she could do exactly. His lovely doctor was a mutant, just like him. Oh yeah, she was to be his for sure. He'd see to it.

"Y' mind if Remy ask wha' homme did t' make y' go off like dat?" he inquired cautiously. She squeezed his hand tighter at the question. For comfort.

". . . He . . . cheated."

" . . . He's . . . crazy," Remy mimicked her, smiling. She smiled. A true, genuine smile.

"Homme, had t' have had a screw loose," he continued, shaking his head in honest disbelief.

"There it is," she said, a smile on her face.

"Wha'?" he asked curiously.

"Evidence of my diagnoses; you are a shameless flatterer, and an expert charmer. You must practice."

He grinned cheekily. "Y' make dis Cajun blush, chérie," he returned, feigning modesty.

"I can tell that is quite an accomplishment," she responded playfully.

Remy laughed—low, husky, masculine laughter she noted. She liked it.

She peered out of her window, her apartment building coming into view.

"It appears we have made it," she announced, albeit a bit sadly.

"Yeah," he said in agreement, disappointed, as the car halted to a stop, he still held her hand.

"Thank you."

"Absolutement."

". . . ."

"Y' uh - wan' Remy t' walk y' up?" he asked hopefully.

"Oh, that will not be necessary. You have done too much already. I am fine."

"Yes, y' are," he flirted, staring at her, his gaze hot.

She dropped her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Goodbye, Remy," she smiled slightly, regretfully letting go of his warm, comforting hand and stepping out the car.

"I --" he started, but she had closed the door and begun walking into her building.

He watched her go inside, stopping to wave at him one last time before disappearing completely.

He sat in his car drumming his thumbs pensively on the steering wheel. What was he going to do now? What were **they **going to do now?

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you all for reviewing. Sorry I haven't been able to reply to your reviews, I have had major computer issues that last two weeks & still do. I am updating this via a computer other than my own. So if I don't reply to your reviews right away it isn't because I'm trying to be rude. I truly appreciate all the feedback & love getting your responses :-) This chapter will conclude the first half of "_Love and Restoration_." The remaining half of this story will focus more on "substance" and the development of Remy and Ororo's obvious relationship (which means more romance/fluff, a warning for those who adverse to it; I will also attempt to make the chapters longer) Thank you to everyone who has been reading & enjoying this story & reviewing consistently. I'm very pleased/surprised by the positive reactions to the fic. Thanks guys, Ashra.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**  
Author: **Ashra**  
Title: **Love and Restoration: Part 2**  
Rating: **T**  
Author's Note: **I thank you all for your patience. I'm sorry for the wait, I'm still having computer issues L So again, I apologize for not responding to reviews immediately. I try to as quickly as possible, but alas. I do greatly appreciate them! I try to keep update info on my profile page. If it wasn't for my PC I would have updated over 2 weeks ago. Brazos: I appreciate the Memorial Day greeting. I hope you had a good one as well J Again, to my reviewers: a big, hearty thank you!**  
Story Notes: **_Italics _indicate thought / **Bold **text indicates emphasis. Ororo's background is changed slightly from canon for my own artistic purposes here. As is the majority of the story :-)

* * *

_- _**21 **_-_

Ororo turned on the lights in her apartment and squinted painfully at the brightness. _Better, _she thought as she dimmed the lights. The semi-darkness better suited her mood right now. She trekked to her bedroom, shedding her wet dress and heels and loosing her hairpins until her damp white mane fell free from its captivity, cascading down her slender back. She sighed tiredly as she threw her dress into her laundry hamper, she'd have to have it cleaned tomorrow, before it started to take on that wet, moldy smell.

She went to her bathroom and began running the scolding hot bathwater that would hopefully distract her mind and heart from the dull pain she felt there. It surprised her again, the fact that she felt more numb than anything as she mentally ran through the events of today. It had to be a record, she didn't know anyone who had both gotten engaged and broken it off simultaneously within a few hours of the initial proposal. But she guessed that if it would indeed happen to anyone, it would happened to her. Ororo Munroe, destined to be a lonely spinster it seemed; at least if the current situation proved anything.

Though hurt and disappointed, Ororo felt the turn of events with Jonathan were not particularly surprising. Her and Jonathan's relationship had been unstable and rocky from the start of it, and signs of impeding doom had been noticed by her, but she hadn't wanted to believe it—to accept it. She wanted to believe for once that she wasn't fated to be alone her entire life. Was this an odd pattern that had taken shape in her life? Brief reprieves from loneliness only to fall back into its depths once more?

She had lived happily with her parents like any other normal child would until their untimely deaths in Cairo. That's where it began. The reprieve and then the loneliness. Sometimes she wondered if she would be there still if it had not been for Charles. With him and her journey back to the country of her birth she recaptured the feeling of having family and a home where she could feel safe and cared for. After the adoption, she truly did feel cared for; growing up in America, raised by her wealthy adoptive father, attending the academy where she had met her closest friend and practically her sister, Jean Grey.

With Charles graciously filling the void of her father and mother, and Jean Grey a sister, Ororo had everything she truly desired in the close relationships she had with the two. They were good, kind, and intelligent people and Ororo knew she was blessed to have them. At the end of her senior year she had graduated Valedictorian and with an acceptance letter to the prestigious John Hopkins University; three months before graduation, she had met Jonathan and she couldn't imagine things could be any better for her.

With a rigorous college schedule and an obscene amount of credits to complete she wasn't afforded many opportunities to visit home and see her father, but with Jean attending the same school the discomfort was lessened and additionally with the fact that Jonathan came to see her on campus as often as possible. Even so, her and Jean both had different curriculums which meant she was on her own much of the time.

Jean was virtually her only friend, not that Ororo minded. She had always kept to herself, close only with Charles, Jean, and Jonathan. The latter had worked greatly to win Ororo's affections. It hadn't come easy to the introverted, white-haired beauty to begin seeing Forge. But he had some of the same personality traits as herself and in that she found comfort. He would never force her to be sociable, or attend the parties on campus, or rest from studying to take a well needed sabbatical. Instead, he encouraged her rigid sense of control, emotionless behavior, and self-imposed discipline. As they say, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Well, Forge didn't mind being a dull boy.

Ororo smiled inwardly as she eased down into the steaming, sandalwood scented water. A dull boy was something Remy LeBeau definitely was not. Ororo ran her bath sponge over her long arms absently as her thoughts turned towards the Cajun charmer. If it hadn't been for him tonight she might have caused much damage with the wild storm her emotions had conjured. It was the first time she had used her powers in several years, not since the death of her parents, except for a small slip-up here and there. With Charles being a supporter for mutant rights, he had encouraged her to explore her incredible powers, hoping to make her feel safe and unashamed of who she was. Something the world around them did not.

Ororo would, every once in a while; creating a small rain cloud to water the house plants, a warm tropical wind to dry her hair, but she ceased doing even those things after awhile. Charles had been disappointed in his failed attempt to make her feel at peace with her abilities, with herself, but hoped optimistically that one day, she would come to terms with it. To be comfortable and sure within herself.

She wondered if Remy had had those problems when discovering his own mutation. His confident swagger was bold and infectious, but to someone with a trained eye such as Ororo, she knew there was something more to it. A hidden side to him if you will. Something that charming bravado was used to conceal. She tried to convince herself it was the psychiatrist in her that desired to unearth it, to peel back his layers and discover the heart of the man, instead of the woman who was steadily falling and hoping to claim that heart for her own.

* * *

"My family is wrong, Doctor. I don't have a death wish . . . I simply have no fear of it, like most people do. I don't do the things I do because I'm subconsciously desirous of a premature death. I do them because . . . well, I enjoy them."

"Hmmm . . ." Ororo breathed softly, as she scribbled notes on the paper lying on her pristine desk.

"So you are never concerned that in your zeal for thrill-seeking you will in fact, experience a premature death?" Ororo inquired, as she glanced back up and over to the vivacious Asian woman who lay lounging carelessly on the therapeutic couch provided.

"It depends on one's definition of "death." Death to me is the absence of freedom, the confines of emotional suppression and the inability to live as a free-spirit."

Ororo said nothing as she wrote. She knew all too well the life Ms. Yukio Ishikawa described—she lived it. The harsh reality of that thought, with the addition of the morose attitude she had since the event of weeks past, prompted Ororo to end the session for today.

"I respect that Miss Ishikawa. Your philosophy makes sense, indeed," Ororo agreed politely. "Unless, you have something to add or would like to continue, we can close for today. I have kept you quite awhile, and I know the hourly rate is costly," Ororo added good-naturedly.

The pixie-haired woman laughed heartily at Ororo's comment. "Indeed!" she cosigned, as she began gathering her things. Ororo stood, arising from her chair as she followed the woman exiting her office. They walked together in the hall until they reached the break room door, where Ororo said farewell to the eccentric woman and went in to prepare her tea.

Apparently she was not alone in her need for refreshment as Dr. Dayspring was already at the counter brewing fresh coffee.

"Ororo," he greeted, his smile wide.

"Nathan," she returned, grinning politely. She wasn't particularly in the mood for conversation, but Ororo had never been the type of person to allow a foul mood to be an excuse to be rude to others.

"How are you, Ororo?"

"Well, thank you."

"Good. Coffee?"

"No, I prefer tea. Thank you."

"No problem."

Ororo lowered the tea bag into the steaming hot water.

"So . . . everything going well . . . considering? I mean, we haven't been able to have a conversation since it all . So . . . uh - how are you holding up?" he asked hesitantly.

Ororo stopped dunking the tea bag and turned around to face Nathan, sincere concern etched on his face. Ororo let a small smile form to assure him his concerned inquiry was alright.

"Did Kathryn tell you?"

"No, she didn't. But I did notice the absence of your engagement ring, not to mention everything that happened a couple weeks ago . . . obviously something was wrong. We - uh, haven't had much time to talk . . ."

Ororo nodded.

"Honestly Nathan, I have been better, I will not lie. But it is nothing I will not get over. I am . . . used to it . . ."

". . . To what exactly?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Ororo hesitated. She lowered her head as she absently stirred her tea, watching the silver spoon twirl round and round as she stirred it. Anything to keep from making eye contact.

"Being . . . alone."

Nathan said nothing, only looked at her regretfully, sympathetically, as he leaned against the counter, his legs outstretched, crossed at the ankles. He couldn't see her face from the way she was positioned, but he imagined her normally sparkly crystal blue eyes had lost their shine. He had noticed as she passed him on the way into work today that they seemed duller than usual. Physically she looked fine, but Nathan knew differently. His patients weren't the only people he could read emotionally.

"Are you in need of a therapist?"

" . . ."

At her silence, Nathan hoped dearly that his playful jesting had not offended her. He was just trying to cheer her up, lighten her mood. All that could be heard in the near-empty break room was the soft clinking of a spoon hitting the sides of a tea cup.

Nathan opened his mouth to apologize. "Oro - -"

"Do you have any recommendations?" she cut in. Ororo grinned at his relieved chuckle.

"I might just know someone," Nathan grinned cheekily.

"Oh, I do not think he would want to listen to me, and I try to make it a habit not to complain."

"It is not complaining Ororo. Its simply you discussing your troubles with a friend who not only doesn't mind listening, but wants to be there anytime something is bothering you. To . . . be there for you."

Nathan swallowed hard. Did she honestly have no clue as to how he felt about her? How everything about her concerned not only her alone, but him as well?

Ororo grinned. "I appreciate that Nathan. I do."

"But?"

"But, I am fine, really."

Nathan gave her a look of disbelief, one that said he knew she was anything but. She turned away upon seeing it, "Your coffee is done," she hedged.

"Ororo?"

". . . Hmm?"

He took a deep breath, "How would you like to go out with me sometime?"

* * *

"Good to see ya in today, Rem." Henri beamed at his brother as he strode through the doors. Logan in tow behind him.

"Likewise, mon frère."

"Hey, Logan."

"Hey, Henri," Logan greeted with a nod of his head, taking a vacant seat at the bar.

"Decided to work today?" Henri questioned Remy as he got Logan a beer.

"Wha'? I can' come t' my own place no mo'? Remy shook his head.

"Well, I hope ya don't mind. I did some hiring in the meantime, a waitress."

"I don' care," Remy shrugged nonchalantly, as he made his way to the back office.

". . . Hmph, I hope ya say that when ya see who she is," Henri mumbled under his breath, after the back door had closed shut.

Logan grunted. "I heard that. What do you mean 'when he sees who she is'?"

Henri gave a short, nervous chuckle. "Well . . . she is an old friend of his." Logan mentally ran through the list of Remy's friends, new and old, and the list was very short. Unless . . . .

"_She?"_

Logan started. "You didn't . . . " Logan questioned Henri.

"I did."

"Henri! Why did you do that?"

Henri looked at him surprised. An incredulous look on his face. "Have you seen the way Remy has been lately? He doesn't even act the same! Worried about some fille he's been pining over the last couple of months. When have you ever known Remy to act that way about a femme? I thought this might help him."

"Oh, brilliant idea Henri. If it didn't work between them the last time what makes you think this time will be any different, especially if he does have eyes for some other woman?"

Henri shrugged. "I dunno. I'm just hoping is all. I just want the old Remy back." Logan shook his head. He had noticed Remy's uncharacteristic behavior just as Henri had, but unlike Henri, Logan didn't see it as a cause for alarm. In fact, he thought it was pretty amusing seeing Remy seemingly infatuated with a woman, Logan figured. He just wished he could meet the woman who had cast such a spell over his notoriously womanizing friend. He was still the same ol' Remy, just distracted it seemed. He hadn't been in trouble, hadn't been drinking . . . this change seemed to be a good thing! Logan just wondered what had caused it, better yet, **who **had caused it?

"Ya better go and tell him up front who it is. It may not go well for you if you don't let him in on who ya hired now, you know Remy."

Henri sighed. "Bien, bien. I'll go now." Logan nodded as he watched Henri untie his apron and head towards the back to speak with Remy. Logan shook his head again as he took a large gulp of his beer.

_Wonder what the Cajun'll say . . ._

"Rem?" Henri called from the other side of the door, "can I come in?"

"Oui," Remy answered as he looked up. Henri opened the door and came through as Remy looked on curiously. "You busy, Rem?"

"Non. Jus' t'inkin'."

Henri rolled his eyes. He could guess what - or rather - **who **his brother was thinking about.

"That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about my brother."

Remy narrowed his dark eyes. He had never mentioned Ororo to anyone, not because he hadn't wanted to, but because he didn't know where he and Ororo stood officially. What could he say? Plus, he didn't want to explain his feelings for her to anyone because he didn't feel an obligation to. It was his business. And he certainly didn't want to hear their opinions on how crazy he was for being attracted to his therapist. Remy went after whatever it was he wanted . . . And he wanted a certain blue-eyed, white-haired doctor with a breathtakingly gorgeous face, and a traffic stopping figure. A woman with a voice that sounded like sweet music; graceful, compassionate, everything he had ever desired but never dreamed of possessing.

"An' wha' is dat exactly?" Remy inquired.

Henri sighed and took a seat in front of Remy. "Ya know how I said I hired a new waitress?"

"Oui," Remy nodded.

"Well . . ." Henri halted.

"Well . . . ?" Remy repeated, "go on."

" . . . Its Bella . . ." he whispered as his head dropped slightly, not meeting Remy's eyes.

" . . . Belladonna?"

" . . . Um, yup."

"Henri! Why her? Why y' do dat?"

". . . She wanted to ask you, but she figured it wasn't a good idea. I told her it was okay, that you wouldn't mind her working here. I - I just wanted to let ya know before she showed up for work."

Remy stood up as he rubbed his face with his hands. Perturbed and highly annoyed. He ran his hands thorough the thick mass of his auburn hair. This was the last thing he needed. "I just thought it'd be good for you ya know? Ya been weird lately."

Remy stopped his pacing. "Oh. Remy sees now," he spoke up, angrily enlightened. "Y' tryin' t' get us back t' gether, Henri?" he demanded angrily.

"Look Rem. I know ya'll used to be good friends. I just thought it would be good havin' her around. Put the spark back in ya."

"Why don' y' mind yo' own damn business, Henri? Why don' y' go wit' her if y' so concerned? Remy ain' de least bit interested in Bell. Y' should know dat. Y' bringin' her 'round here jus' causes potential fo' trouble."

"How so?"

Remy scratched his stubbled chin, ignoring him. "Listen, Remy ain' gon' tell y' t' fire her or not'ing, but y' make sure she knows why she's here. I ain' up fo' none of ya'lls tricks. Try anyt'ing an' y' be lookin' fo' a job too."

"Remy . . ."

"Dis discussion is over."

Henri looked at Remy pleadingly, but to no avail. He finally got up and closed the door behind him as he made his exit.

Remy released an exasperated sigh and fell back down into his chair as it creaked slightly beneath his weight. As annoyed with Henri as he was for hiring Bell, he had other things on his mind. Like his visit with his lady doctor tomorrow. He smiled—a bright almost predatory smile, full of anticipation.

* * *

_Day after__ . . . ._

Ororo paced the floor of her office nervously. Wringing her hands as she anxiously anticipated the arrival of her next patient. She hadn't seen him since that awful day with Forge when he had graciously taken her home afterwards. Her stomach was in knots just thinking about setting her eyes on his beautiful yet distinctly masculine face. Those drawing, arresting eyes of his and ironic twist of his soft, lush lips.

What would she do now? At least before she had always had Jonathan as a roadblock, a distraction from the temptation that was Remy LeBeau. Now there was nothing. Nothing to keep her from falling faster, harder. Her thoughts were interrupted with the beeping of her phone, and she swiftly came around the desk to answer it.

"Dr. Munroe," she answered.

"Hey Ororo, just wanted to let you know Mr. LeBeau is here," Kitty chirped over the phone, amused delight coloring her tone.

"Thank you. You can send him down now."

"Will do."

Ororo's hand shook slightly as she placed the phone back unto the receiver. She felt ridiculous for behaving in this manner, but everyone of her senses seemed to awaken in his presence, and her body took on an uncanny awareness of him. His eyes, his scent, his masculine beauty, his aura . . .

"Ahem. Why, hello, chére."

Ororo's head snapped up to meet his dark eyes directly, as he leaned on her door with a cool, languid ease. His lithe, hard frame pressed easily against her door as he perused her slowly, deliberately. His stare hot and sultry, lips twisting into a wry grin.

She stood fastened to the floor. She hadn't even heard him enter, yet here he was, undeniably sensual in his demeanor. She said nothing, could say nothing.

Remy's smiled widened at her stunned silence. "Y' alright, chérie?" he asked knowingly, sarcastically.

She gave a bereft nod of her head. "I am fine." The words were practically dredged from her un-cooperating vocal cords. He nodded in turn as he strode unhurriedly towards her. She stood fast, watching as he made his way, stopping just in front of her, close enough to feel his warm breath on her face.

". . . I missed y'," he whispered, his Cajun accent light and breathy as he beheld her face.

"Is . . . that so now?" she retorted, clearing her throat uncomfortably.

"Oui."

She felt helpless this close to him. She had no clever reply. No clever statement. Caught in a place of shameless enchantment. He caught her hand and brought it to his lips as he gently kissed her finger pads. Her eyes fluttered shut tightly at the sensation as she tried desperately to fight the wave of warm sensations at the feel of his smooth lips on her fingertips. With her eyes still shut tightly she could she could hear him chuckle lightly at her reaction.

Pitying the poor woman, Remy gave a gracious bow and took his usual seat in front of her desk. Seemingly pleased with himself—pleased with her. Ororo let out a deep, steadying breath as she too found her seat. She really wished she had some tea right now. She swallowed hard in an attempt to moisten her dry throat.

"How - ahem - how are you, Remy?"

He hid his surprised shock at her calling him by his first name. "Jus' fine, chére. Jus' fine."

"Good."

"An' y', chére? How are y' holdin' up . . . all t'ings considered?" he asked, a look of genuine concern on his face. Ororo knew the reason for it, he was asking how had she been since her split with Jonathan.

"Never better." She offered a small smile of reassurance.

"Hmm."

Her clipped statement of feigned happiness didn't fool Remy. Her dulled blue eyes spoke volumes. So did the smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her normally sleek hair bun was loose and small strands of her white hair stuck out randomly in places. Her eyes seemed darker underneath as well. Still, even in such a state, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Such a thought gave him pause.

"Enough about me. After all, I am hear to listen to you, correct?" the false gaiety in her voice gave him cause for concern.

"I suppose so. But den again, when do y' ever get de chance t' have someone listen t' y', chére?"

". . . I do not need anyone to listen to me. I am fine. Self-sufficient," she lied.

"Can' always be self-sufficient, ma chére. Everybody needs someone t' talk t' every once-in-awhile," he pressed.

"I have family and friends I can talk to if I need."

"Yeah, but . . . dey can' be wid y' all de time. Talkin' on de phone wit' someone is different den havin' dem close t' y'. Someone y' can be wit'. Someone y' can touch . . ."

"I suppose," she said wistfully, her voice soft and low as tears threatened to sting her eyes, "that would be nice."

Ororo wished he would desist. She didn't want to be made aware again that she was alone, that she had nobody. That she'd always been alone, and probably would be the rest of her life. As great as Charles and Jean were, it wasn't the same. And as much as she had cared for Jonathan, still, he hadn't been able to erase those age-old feelings of loneliness. They stayed with her constantly, consistently, since the death of her parents. The only time she could remember not feeling them was when **he **was around . . . that fact only seemed to amplify her fear and distress. What did that mean?

"Well," she spoke up, wiping at her eyes, "two or three more sessions and we will be finished! I can not believe the way the time has gone by. Most therapeutic treatment consists of about six to twelve sessions. Depending on the need of the patient. Do you feel you will require more sessions than this?" she asked.

She wanted him to say yes. Wanted him to come to her forever, as much as possible—to suspend the reality. A cruel reality - a reality that he wouldn't be a part of once their time together was over. She'd never see him again. The thought of it weighed heavy on her and made her heart ache with a sense of future loss and pain his absence would cause her.

"I t'ink I do require mo' time wit' y' chére -"

_Thank God . . ._

"Is that so?" she asked, attempting not to sound too pleased.

"- - Oui_, _but not therapeutically_._"

Ororo squirmed a bit. ". . . Well, in what other way do you mean?" she responded coyly.

"Oh. So we gonna act like we don' know now, is dat it?"

". . . "

"From de looks of it, y' need someone t' talk to. T' confide in, Remy figures it should be him."

"Well, that is kind of you, but - -"

"Y' don' wan' t' spend time wit' Remy?" He raised one rust-colored eyebrow.

"No! That is not what I meant. I mean - there is no other way for us . . . to see each other, Remy . . ."

_Remy again. _

"Non? Y' sure 'bout dat?"

His question hung heavily in the air as silence adorned the room.

She hung her head. "I can not."

"Why?"

"Because . . ."

"Because wha'?"

"Because I am your doctor."

"I t'ink we both know y' are mo' den dat . . ."

"No, I do not know. Because I am not."

". . . Don' y' wan' t' be?"

". . ."

"Don' y' wan t' be?" Remy repeated the question at her silent pause. Why wouldn't she just give in?

" . . . How can you ask me that?" she answered under her breath.

"Damn it, 'Roro 'cause I need t' kno'. Remy's gettin' tired o' dis."

"Of what?"

"Dis! Pretendin' we don' wan' each other. Remy's never hid de fact dat he wan' y'. An' though y' make a good attempt chére, y' can' hide it from me either."

Ororo pushed away from her desk and walked to the window, staring out. Anything to keep from looking at his face. To distract her.

Remy followed. Grabbing her gently as he turned her to face him directly.

"Non. No mo' hidin'."

". . . Do you know what your asking me, Remy?" She swallowed hard as she looked at him head on. His firm grip on her shoulders flooding warmth throughout her.

"Oui, I do."

"No, you do not. Your asking me to risk my career. Your asking me to do the insane! I only just split with Jonathan. I gave precious years to him, whether or not he wronged me, I still feel a void at his absence."

"Did y' love him?" Remy asked impatiently.

"What?"

"Did y' love him, chére?"

". . . I cared for him."

"Dat's not de same."

"What does this have to do with us, Remy?"

"Honestly? I t'ink dis t'ing wit' Forge is jus' an excuse. Remy believes y' cared fo' him, but I know y' didn' love him. Be honest, y' ain' at least a lil' bit relieved he's gone?"

". . ."

"Like I t'ought. He ain' de one fo' y' girl. "

"Why do you say that?" she asked, hearing in his words an echo of Jean's not so long ago.

". . ."

"Hmm? " she urged.

" 'Cuz, he ain' Remy . . ."

They held each other's gaze, never faltering once. Completely riveted. Hardly blinking. The gravity of his words centering her yet shaking her to the core.

_Damn the man . . . _Ororo thought as she watched him, as she took in every detail of his beautiful face. How she wished she could see his eyes right now.

". . . You know," she gulped, ". . . I wish I could see your eyes," she whispered to him. She scarcely believed the words had come from her. She gave him a timid smile.

Remy wrapped his arms around her waist, drawing her closer, a wide smile shaping his mouth. He touched a loose strand of her white hair. "I wish I could see dis hair out," he said smiling, "Remy's wanted t' see it loose since de first day I met y'.

Ororo rewarded him with a shy smile. She fondly recollected the day he had shown her his natural eyes for the first time. It must not have been easy for him, looking back on it. Could she do no less?

She stepped away from him slightly as she reached up into her hair. Remy watched her closely as she deftly removed the multiple hair pins that kept her hair up, placing them on her shiny desk where a small pile of pins was steadily accumulating.

She removed the last one and a sweeping mass of what looked like white silk, cascaded down her back, flowing past her waist. Full, natural, curls. Voluminous and gorgeous.

Remy let out a small gasp of pleasant surprise. It was more stunning than he had imagined. Ororo glanced up at him shyly.

". . . It kind of stands out, I always pin it back, you know—so it is less noticeable."

"Your so beautiful chére . . . y' can' help but t' be noticeable."

". . . Thank you," she mumbled under her breath as she stared down at her feet.

Her shyness was so incredibly endearing to him, her gentle, sweet nature.

_Damn, so beautiful . . . mon Dieu . . ._

Remy stepped forward gingerly, reaching out to touch it. She made no attempt to stop him as he reverently ran his long fingers through the soft cloud of hair. He brought some to his nose and inhaled the sweet scent. Everything about her was so unbelievably beautiful to him, yet such feelings were foreign to him. Scary yet pleasant.

Ororo held on to Remy tightly as he caressed her hair. Burying her nose into his shoulder where she breathed him in deeply. His firm, warm body feeling remarkably good so close. Comforting, tender, and secure.

"Y' kno' chére?"

"Hmm?" she answered distractedly. She was enjoying this.

He chuckled. "Y' ain' called me "Mr. LeBeau" once t'day."

She laughed lightly. "I had not even noticed," she giggled as she pulled away to see his face.

Her eyes retained their sparkle at her genuine smile. She was stunning to him with her beautiful white hair out, blue eyes twinkling, and a dazzling white smile forming her rosy lips.

Her desk phone beeping and blinking pulled them out of their trance as Ororo reluctantly pulled away and went to answer the phone. Remy just watched her as she conversed on the phone. A look of contemplation on his face. Mulling over how he felt and more importantly, what he felt. Henri was right, it was very unlike Remy LeBeau to behave in such a way about a woman. But Ororo . . . _Ororo's not jus' any woman, _Remy noted to himself as he watched her. Something, he realized, he highly enjoyed. Something that made him care and stirred up feelings in the depths of him.

"Sorry about that," Ororo said as she ended the call, hanging up the phone.

"S' okay, ma chére." Ororo nodded her thanks as she fidgeted nervously with her hands. What to say now? What to do?

"I t'ink we need t' talk chére, somewhere outside o' y' office. I t'ink we gotta take care o' some t'ings, non?"

She nodded slowly. "Yes," she answered simply.

"Y' remember my place? De bar?"

". . . How could I forget?"

Remy laughed, silly question. He stopped immediately, not wanting to upset her. His mind drifting back to the less than pleasant event she had experienced there a few weeks ago. He didn't want to appear callous.

"I'm sorry, chére. I didn' mean t' be disrespectful."

"No, you were not. Its alright." Ororo waved her hand dismissively.

"Okay. Right," he said, "well, do y' wanna meet me dere? We can go somewhere else from dere. Wherever y' wan', Remy'll take y'. Bien?"

"Yes, okay," Ororo nodded slowly. What a surreal conversation. The doctor making an appointment with the patient.

"Oui! Great."

She smiled at his pleased reaction.

"Uh - when can' we do it?"

Ororo stared at him shocked, her mouth open. Remy laughed heartily at her horrified expression, his deep, sultry voice rippling with laughter.

"Remy's talkin' 'bout de date."

Ororo shook her head, embarrassed at the conclusion she had drawn. "I am sorry," she apologized.

"S' okay, chére," he replied, still laughing. It wasn't like the idea wasn't . . . arousing, he thought to himself.

"I have several sessions during the week this week, but perhaps this weekend, or next weekend . . . whatever is better for you."

"Next weekend den, give y' some time t' rest up. Remy wan' y' rapt an' attentive when y' wit' him." He winked at her. Ororo shook her head, grinning. He didn't realize her entire being was involuntary attentive whenever he was around.

"'Til den, ma chérie," he said as he embraced her warmly. He grabbed her hand and made her walk with him to the door as he prepared to leave. He turned to face her, his attention going straight towards her moist mouth. How he wanted to give her a proper goodbye, directly on those plump, inviting lips of hers, but he resisted. Another foreign concept to him, holding back. Instead, he caressed her face tenderly as he placed a lingering kiss on the corner of her mouth. A small sigh escaped her mouth as she found herself almost turning her head fully into his kiss. A gesture that did not go unnoticed by Remy. Her half-lidded gaze and pouty mouth begging, calling to him even. Drawing him.

"Goodbye, Remy," she whispered breathlessly near his face.

"Goodbye, 'Roro," he returned, never once looking away, his heart rate speeding up at her breathy reply. Oh, he'd wait. Wait for the right moment. When it happened, he'd savor it, relish in it, make her never forget it.

He left her reluctantly, kissing her hand one last time before disappearing completely.


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.  
**Author's Note: **For the reviews and story alerts, and everyone whose added this humble story to your favorites list, I thank you all tremendously! :: Blows appreciative kisses:: This chapter is short & there is no interaction between our favorite comic-book couple in this chapter, but do not despair the dreaded story fillers. The next update should be a bit more worthy of this story's genre ;-)  
**Story Notes: **_Italics _indicate thought / **Bold **text indicates emphasis

* * *

**- 22 -**

Ororo peered at Nathan curiously as he sat before her. She smiled at him nervously as she rubbed her hands on her knees uneasily and averted her gaze away from his face. Nathan's eyes hadn't left Ororo's form for more than five seconds at a time. The majority of their lunch was spent with Nathan staring at her unblinkingly; his eyes riveted, fastened to her own cat-like eyes. Ororo had never seen him behave in such a manner and she was slighty unnerved by it. A ironic smile played across his lips as he seemed to stare for minutes on end. Ororo kept her own eyes glued to her plate, poking at the shrimp on her plate absently, distractedly.

Her companion, however, could not believe how fortuitous he was. Ororo. Here. With him. After work. Eating dinner at a casual café downtown, the sky an orangish-pink with an inky blue band beginning to darken the evening horizon. A sign of night's approach. Next time, he and Ororo would have to meet at an earlier time, their late dinner didn't leave him enough time to enjoy her before she'd have to return home.

"I hope I'm not unpleasant company, Ororo," he broached. He lifted his wine glass to his lips and took a small drink as he viewed her sitting opposite him.

"No, no, no. You have been great, Nathan," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "Its just, this week has been . . . tiring. I feel like I barely have the energy to keep my head up. I am probably the one who should be apologizing to you for being unpleasant company." Ororo gave a brief smile and let her eyes fall back down on her plate. There it was again—his staring. He said nothing, just looked at her. His eyes fused. It made her antsy. Why was he doing that?

Ororo sighed, a bit ashamed at her ungratefulness. She guessed this was Nathan's attempt at friendliness. When he had kindly asked her to go out with him in the break room nearly two weeks ago, she had politely declined. She didn't want him pitying her and to offer his companionship as charity. When he persisted throughout the entire week she had agreed to a lunch after work. Now, here they were, with Ororo doing anything she could to keep her eyes from resting on Nathan, who was just as determined to not rest his eyes on anything else except Ororo.

"No need for apologies, Ororo. Our profession takes a lot out of us. Sometimes people do not realize how much, and far be it from me to fault you for it."

"Thank you," she said smiling appreciatively.

He nodded before adding, "Plus, with getting over the mess with your fiancé . . . I'm sure its been a lot for you to deal with, hmm?"

Ororo glanced up at him quickly before glancing back down. She squirmed uncomfortably. "I'm sorry," Nathan apologized immediately, "it must still be a sensitive topic for you. Forgive me." Nathan bit his lip apprehensively. He'd been trying to get her to open up about her ex-fiancé since they sat down, covertly asking little questions, little comments here and there. He wanted to know where her and Jonathan stood, and whether or not there was a chance of him making a reappearance. The latter possibility not abiding well with Nathan.

"You know, surprisingly, it is getting better day by day. Oh, I still have those days where his betrayal pricks at me more painfully than others. Days when he calls and leaves voicemail messages or sends flowers in an attempt to make amends, but . . . I don't know."

Her expression softened and her face brighten as she continued thoughtfully, verbally expressing her musings, "There are some people . . . when your around them . . . they make you have a way of forgetting the painful moments. They make you feel - -" she paused, trying to find the words, " - - whole, I guess. Whole."

Ororo shrugged shyly as her mind ran across Remy. Someone who was never far from her thoughts. Oh, who was she trying to kid? He was always the center of her thoughts. The way he made her feel . . . it was something light and dreamy and beautiful, yet when he would look at her with those fiery eyes that burned red and black, it quickly turned into something consuming and smoldering, and wonderfully frightning. Ororo's pulse quickened just to think of it.

"Uh-oh. I recognize that look." Nathan grinned at her knowingly, astutely.

"Hmm? I beg your pardon?"

". . . That beautiful, secretive smile of yours, Ororo. Only one thing can make that appear on someone's face. A new love." Nathan fought desparately to keep the false smile he'd plastered on his face, and swallow the lump forming in his throat. He did not want to see that marvelous smile unless he was the one to cause it. How long had he been waiting for an opportunity?

Ororo's smiled faded swiftly at the word. She nearly knocked over her glass of water as she fumbled with the napkin it had been resting on.

"Oh - oh no. Nothing so drastic," she said, an attempt to cover her tracks. Her laughter anxious, shaky. Hearing that word spoken aloud set her heart to racing, and her thoughts to jumble.

"Sure about that?" he questioned doubtfully, an eyebrow raised in clear skepticism.

"Most assuredly," she nodded eagerly. She continued reluctantly, "I have just been in the company of a - a very . . . amazing man lately and, well - he seems to have a way of making me feel . . . happy. Very happy," she gushed, her smile wide. Little shivers ran through her body at the mention of him. She was helpless. The bubbly feeling she had in her tummy seemed to make those lovely lips of hers a little more prone than normal to admit small truths. She blinked at Nathan shyly, he probably thought she was behaving like a middle-schooler with a crush. Her eyes met with Nathan's wide grin. One that stretched from ear to ear, his eyes holding a slight twinkle. This time Nathan's smile was genuine and full of joy. He'd never had expected Ororo to have admitted as much on their first outing together.

_I make her feel happy? _he pondered joyously, _Wow_.

Curiously, Ororo glanced at her wristwatch and saw she should have probably been home forty minutes ago. "I am sorry to have to leave Nathan, but I must be on my way. I have to be at work a little earlier in the morning to have a conference call with Mr. and Mrs. Summers."

Ororo began to gather her things as she stood, reaching into her wallet for a tip to leave. "Of course, of course. There is no need for that Ororo," he muttered in regards to the twenty she had laid on the table, "I will gladly leave enough for us both."

"Oh. That is not necessary," she replied, shaking her head, "I would like to." She grinned, "Thank you, Nathan. I appreciate the conversation. At times you become so used to listening that it is a rare indulgence to actually be listened to," she chuckled.

"Anytime, Ororo. I really enjoyed spending the time with you," he said as he came around her side of the table for a hug. Ororo was startled by the hug and Nathan's tight embrace, but even more so by the duration of it. She patted his back hesitantly. "Yes, well - uh, you too." He released her after having his fill, for right now anyway, and watched her as she waved one last time before walking away.

"Want a walk to your car, Ororo?" he yelled after her, his fingers crossed.

She shook her head. "I am fine, thank you. I appreciate the offer. See you tomorrow," she waved. Nathan watched her until he had caught his last sight of her, and smiled to himself, seemingly satisfied. He hummed happily to himself as he left his own tip and walked with a noticeable bounce in his step towards his own vehicle.

* * *

_Valhalla Psychiatry. Next morning__ . . . _

"Do you all know yet when you will return?"

"Um . . . probably several more weeks. You know how these things are: interviewing and hiring new staff, discussing plans with the building contractors, blah, blah, blah. But at least when we aren't busy planning things for the new clinic I get to do some generous shopping."

Ororo chuckled, idly twirling her slender fingers around the curly, black phone cord. "Good! That means I will have some great gifts to expect upon your return," Ororo teased.

"You bet, Ororo! Actually, I'm planning on sending you something within a few weeks," she chattered excitedly.

Ororo's laughing came to a halt. "Oh, Dr. Summers . . . I was just joking. I do not expect you to really buy me gifts."

"Oh, I know, Ororo. I know. But I wanted to buy this one, and I think you'll really enjoy it," she added obscurely.

"Uh - oh."

"Uh - oh is right, Ororo. Just wait until you see it."

"Now I am worried. You seem to forget how well I know you."

Emma's high-pitched giggles could clearly be heard over the line and Ororo distanced the phone from her ear a bit until her laughing fit was over, shaking her head good-humorously at her mentor.

"From what I hear, you are certainly getting to know Dr. Dayspring . . ."

Ororo's smile faded. "What? How - -" she fumbled, trying to figure out in the world Emma could have found out about something that had only taken place yesterday afternoon!

As if discerning Ororo's thoughts, she explained, "There are many things I know, Ororo. Just because I'm not there doesn't mean I do not having ways of knowing privy information," she cooed into the phone, teasingly.

Ororo shook her head no, even though Emma couldn't see her. "Its hardly that scandalous. I accompanied him to lunch after work. He was just trying to be nice, you know, after the whole Jonathan fiasco."

". . . Of which, I am truly sorry about, Ororo."

"It is alright."

"You're a brave woman, Ororo. I hope you know that."

"Thank you, Mrs. Summers," Ororo smiled.

"You know it."

Ororo listened as the background chatter became louder on Emma's side of the phone. "Ororo, my boy scout is calling me. I will check in with everyone probably within the next two or three weeks. Sound good?"

"Of course. Goodbye, Dr. Summers. Tell Mr. Summers I said, 'hello'."

"Will do. Bye, Ororo."

After hanging up, Ororo glanced at her wristwatch. Mrs. Christiano would be arriving in less than fifteen minutes time. A small grin graced Ororo's face as she thought about seeing her. Doctors weren't supposed to play favorites, in fact - they weren't even supposed to become attached to the people who became patients, but Ororo couldn't help being fond of Mrs. Christiano. She was a sweet woman—misguided—but incredibly sweet. She couldn't wait to see how she was doing. Ororo grinned ruefully, it seemed she was getting a penchant for liking her patients. With Remy though, it was truly unfair. Who could resist?

Today was Friday which meant she was supposed to meet him tomorrow. Besides being unbelievably nervous, she was unnerved even more by the fact that she didn't know what he had planned. Such questions and more ran through Ororo's mind as she casually pulled up her e-mails. Lots of junk, lots of spam, Vahalla employee memos, a message from Charles. Charles?

Curiosity piqued, Ororo selected and read the message:

Daughter,

I am writing you because I must request something of you. I want you to find time to come to Baltimore within the next two months or so. I know how difficult it is with your schedule, but this is of the utmost importance. I am letting you know in advance so you can speak with your superiors and request the time away. Besides wanting to discuss some things with you, I am anticipating seeing you for the first time since you left for New Orleans. I'm sure Jean will be ecstatic. I won't go into detail, since it's a secret =) Yes, yes, I know, but it is something that must be discussed in person. I am both excited and joyfully anticipating seeing you my daughter. Expect a call from me sometime this week. I love you, Ororo.

P.S. What was Jonathan thinking? If words could kill, Jean would have killed Jonathan dead upon hearing the news. I have never seen our favorite red-head more angry. I must admit, I had some uncharacteristically vindictive thoughts myself. I comfort myself knowing that you are strong and can handle anything fate throws your way. - Love, Dad

Ororo sat back and sighed after reading Charles' message. What could he be up to? Getting the time away would be no problem, but still. Interest now highly piqued and even a bit confused Ororo saved the message and exited out. Ororo had to smile as she imagined Jean's reaction to the Forge news. Jean had a fiery temper at times and Ororo could only imagine how she had reacted, especially since she had never really liked Jonathan to begin with.

Oh, how she wished Jean was here to give her advice on a certain other gentleman now. Jean would squeal with happiness if she knew Ororo had a 'date' with a handsome Cajun tomorrow. What was it Jean had said previously?:

* _**Jean: **__"Ororo—the beauty, and LeBeau—the beautiful. Ha, how ironic is that! ( . . . ) I - uh, hope everything works out between you and him . . ." _*

Ororo laughed quietly at the memory. Obviously, the ironic translation of Remy and Ororo's respective names was both a sign and hope of some future love in Jean's opinion. Ororo had to admit though, it was kind of cute. But tomorrow would take of itself; a day that could potentially promise even more promises . . . would it promise future love?

* * *

Letting her choose where to go would be his best bet. Whatever and wherever she wanted, that is what he had told her. Remy found himself in a peculiar emotional state. A state of nervousness and excitement and anticipation, and longing? Yes, longing, he confessed hesitantly. He longed to see her, to spend the day with her—by her side. Something he found himself desiring whenever she wasn't present. The woman was just so damned sexy. That was the thing, she didn't try to be sexy, he didn't even know if she thought of herself that way. All he knew was she just **was**. From that ridiculously flawless body to her blindingly bright beauty and her delicious, subtle accent. He'd gotten Logan to clean out his car after much grumbling and complaining from the Canadian, and he'd made sure Henri knew that the bar was to be spotless tomorrow when she arrived.

Remy was determined to make her his by the end of their time together tomorrow. Hell, he'd been patient enough. Gone would be the days of waiting around for the days of his appointments to roll around. He was finished with making appointments and schedule and having to dance around his deep attraction to her. He'd have her, completely have her by tomorrow. She'd know what it was like to belong to him.

Remy smirked and tapped the ashes of his cigarette into the tray as he sat on the countertop. There were so many things he wanted to know about her. He wondered if her soft accent would change during the throes of passion when she called his name. How that white hair would feel spilling over him as she rested carelessly on his chest. Were those red lips as juicy and moist as they looked?

_Mmm . . . mon Dieu._

"Daydreamin', Gumbo?" was Logan's smart reply, as he took a seat on the bar stool next to Remy, obviously still upset and grumpy at having to clean out Remy's car.

"No need t' be glum, mon ami," Remy said smirking. He laughed as he was meet with a low growl in reply.

"So . . . know where your taking her tomorrow?" Logan asked as he swallowed half his beer in one gulp.

"Non," Remy replied as he stubbed out his cigarette, smoking escaping through his lips and nose, "Wherever de lady wants t' go, we'll go."

"Well, ain't you sweet?" Logan teased, chuckling.

"Ah, make fun o' Remy all y' wan' homme; y' ain' seen dis femme. Mon Dieu, de woman is a work o' art. Never seen anyt'ing like her."

"Yeah?" Logan smirked slyly, "In that case, I might have to put my bid in too, Cajun," Logan said grinning mischievously.

Remy met his eyes dead on. "Ha! In y' dreams, homme! Y' kno' how long de Cajun's been waitin' fo' dis? Besides, ma fille is tall. Got legs fo' days, she don' wan' no runt by her side."

"Bastard. If ya were anyone else, I'd kick yer ass for that comment." Remy shrugged off his remark and laughed as he hopped effortlessly off the counter he'd been perching on.

"All jokes aside mon ami, I really like de girl. I mean, really, really like her. She's so beautiful," he said wistfully, sobered instantly by thoughts of her beauty.

Logan gazed at his love-stricken friend as he stared unseeingly into space. _The Cajun's got it bad_, Logan thought amusingly. He'd never thought he'd see the day.

"Yer nervous," Logan added, his statement practically factual, amusement growing more by the second. "I smell on ya, Cajun." Logan blew the smoke of his cigar in the direction of his friend, a lopsided grin playing across his rugged features.

Remy glanced minutely at his friend, his posture hardly indicating that he'd even heard Logan's comment. He didn't answer his friend, just pondered the truth of Logan's words. Tomorrow presented the opportunity Remy had been seeking since the first day he had seen her; that life-altering day when he'd first walked into her office and was simultaneously graced and blessed by her shining beauty.

His strategy for tomorrow was simple: charm the woman until she had no choice but to surrender and melt into his lean, strong arms. Pick and dig until he uncovered the woman inside that he'd only seen rare glimpses of. The woman behind the impenetrable self-defensive barriers. Something else that reminded him that him and her were alike in divers ways. He saw bits of his own character inside of her from time to time, but more importantly to him, Remy saw things inside of her that he desparately wanted to be as a man.

And the time was now. Things were getting deep. Feelings were becoming stronger. Desire was reaching a fever pitch. He wanted to coast with Ororo on the large, uncontrollable swell of feelings that threatened to overtake them both if they would gladly surrender themselves to it. Together. Hand-in-hand. The vow was made. He, resolute and unshakeable. Tomorrow would signify the beginning. He prayed she was just as sure.

* * *

**Next chapter: **Remy -&- Ororo's "_date_". Reviews are very encouraging & highly appreciated!


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Story Notes: **_Italics _indicate thought / **Bold **text indicates emphasis

**Credits: **Featured song in this chapter is: "Ego" by Beyoncè. If you've never heard it, I recommend listening to it before reading the chapter. It helps you envision, lol =) You can obviously _YouTube _it.

* * *

**- 23 -**

"Gee, yer sweatin' like a sinner in church, Gumbo. Just . . . take a breath, Cajun." Logan looked on warily at his perspiring friend with a comical smirk on his rugged face, as Remy tapped a lone cigarette on the table he sat behind. Where he waited. Anxiously, fretfully, but very much expectantly. Up down, up down. Quickly. The speed in which he tapped the white nicotine-filled stick was so rapid it appeared to simply be a narrow white blur. Remy grinned at Logan's comment, the chuckle that followed it nervous.

"Remy's good, mon ami. Remy's good," he assured, more to convince himself than Logan. She had him on the edge.

"Think she's as nervous as you are, bub?"

Remy grinned slightly. "I dunno. Remy certainly hope he ain' alone in dis . . . Jus' de fact dat she agreed t' dis t'ough, dat says a lot. She may not be nervous, bu' she definitely brave, non?"

It was true, Ororo was going out with him publicly, this was a genuine miracle. It was indeed a bit of a risk for her. She was taking a chance for him . . . for **him**. He meant that much to her? It was a heart-warming thought. She wouldn't regret it. Knowing such information took the edge off his nerves a bit. It endeared her to Remy's heart even further, made his feelings towards her a little more tender; made his smile a little bit wider, more genuine. He had even realized that wide, genuine smile was on his face.

". . . You slick, Cajun bastard! . . . You slick, cunning Cajun bastard! . . ." Logan said, as he smiled amusingly, shaking his head in awe as it dawned on him, "Its yer lady doc . . . hell! That's the mystery lady! My God . . ."

Remy watched his friend's shocked expression and bowed his head, laughing. His shoulders shaking with his mirthful laughter. He slapped a hand on the table, as he tossed his head back, continuing in his low, throaty laughter. "S'prised?" he said in between his laughter, turned chuckles.

"Ya could say that!" Logan laughed. He patted his friend on the back heartily. Slapping his back with a large calloused hand. His friend never ceased to amaze him. Only the Cajun Casanova would try to initiate a relationship with his therapist for God's sake! Remy's tendecies to not follow the rules was secretly one of the reasons Remy LeBeau was his friend, though. They both possessed a bit of a rebellious streak. Remy was simply more slick, more covert about it. Logan was ballsy and brash and didn't care one iota who knew it, nor what anyone thought about it.

"This deserves a toast, Gumbo. Yer something else, Cajun. Something else. I've taught ya well," he grinned sharply, his sharp, white teeth exposed broadly. He raised his half-finished beer to meet Remy's.

"Y' kno' de Cajun," Remy conceded happily as their bottles clinked. A cunning smirk shaping his exquisite mouth.

"I gotta ask though. A date so early in the afternoon. I mean its - - " Logan glanced at his watch in introspection, " - - 2:35!"

"Mm-hmm," Remy responded as he lowered his beer from his lips, placing a cigarette in its stead, "Remy called de fille yesterday, y' kno' t' make sure everyt'ing was still bien fo' today, an' she said she wanted t' start "early". Dunno why, an' I don' care," Remy shrugged, nonplussed. "So long as she by Remy's side."

"Hell, Cajun. Ya really dig her, eh?"

Remy smirked lightly, "Y' coul' say dat, mon ami. Y' coul' say dat," he confessed honestly. And why not? He had nothing to hide.

"That's good. Henri doesn't seem to think so, but it is."

"Ha. Henri don' kno'. He prob'ly jus' mad his lil' plans wit' Bella didn' work out de way he wan'ed," Remy smirked.

It was true. Since Bella had started waitressing Remy had barely said a full sentence to her. No ill feelings existed between the former couple. He just wasn't interested in the pretty blonde. His enamored affections rested on an unbelievably gorgeous woman with snow-colored hair and cocoa skin.

"What's her name, LeBeau? Yer lady doc."

A knowing grinned formed on his lips, seemingly pleased Logan had asked. Pleased he could answer, an opportunity to let her name roll deliciously off his Cajun tongue, "Ororo. Her name is, Ororo." He couldn't resist repeating it twice.

"Ororo?" Logan copied, a look of confusion dancing across his bearded face, "Ororo," he repeated once more. "Sounds . . . familiar. That's not a name ya just hear casually, but it seems familiar . . ."

Remy regarded his friend with confused eyes, just as the door opened, letting in a light breeze; a breeze carrying the scent of sandalwood . . . and feminine perfection. He looked at her as an undeniably joyous smile graced his lips, displaying to his advantage his perfect, heart-melting smile. His eyes gaining a cheerful twinkle.

"Mon Dieu," he whispered under his breath. God, the woman was incredibly beautiful.

She made her way, noticeably timid, glancing around at her polished surroundings as she desperately sought his presence—treading lightly. Ororo clutched her small bag to her person close as she spied searchingly. Then there he was. His graceful form sitting behind a square table, across from a large, bulky man whose back was still turned toward her. Her wintery blue eyes fell on Remy's arrestingly beautiful face and a smile that competed with Remy's in sheer brilliance made her stunning crystal blues a few watts brighter. Between her eyes and both of their smiles, the darkly elegant room seemed to noticeably brighten.

Seeing the trance-like state of his friend opposite him, Logan turned to see the object of his attentions. When he did . . . Logan's own face almost mirrored Remy's, only his lower jaw hung slightly open and dropped as if a weight had been attached to it.

"Remy," she greeted smilingly.

"'Roro," he returned. Awestruck.

Both men watched as the svelte beauty glided towards them. And indeed it was a glide. She did not walk. Not unlike an angel, she glided. Each long, flawless limb treading in front of the other made Remy's chest tighten. Her flat, gold sandals coiled decoratively around her shins, halting right below her knees. An Egyptian-esque style; it suited her, complementing her lovely exoticness. Her white dress mid-thigh length. Her toned, sable arms bare in the sleeveless dress. The off shoulder top exposing her right shoulder and collarbone. The dress billowed out modestly, the bottom swishing freely right above her knees as she approached. A lone gold bangle on her small, left wrist. Her white, rainbow Louis V. charm bag draped over a bare sable shoulder. Her thick, white braid, flowing carelessly over the opposite shoulder, the perfect ends curling, grazing her waist line. A small trendril of her glorious white hair, spiraled down into her stunning face. Miniscule, spherical gold studs adorning her ears.

The gold and white colors of her attire made her appear even more angelic; unintentionally turning the dark maroon strip of carpet she walked on into a runway in Milan. Her scent, delectable.

Remy arose, a bit unsteadily, taking her delicate hand in his, as she reached him. Staring. Helpless and drawn by her heavenly beauty. An ebony, blue-eyed angel was holding his hand. Her white hair shimmered about her like the light of a halo. He pulled her into an embrace that she surpisingly relaxed into instanteously, holding him tightly. His arms tightened around her waist in response, discreetly inhaling the delectable scent at her neck.

"Good to see you, Remy," she greeted softly, "God, you - you really look incredibly handsome. But you probably already know that," she remarked, her comment hinting sarcasm. She smiled against his shoulder.

His warm laugh vibrated in her ear where his mouth was close to her. "Non. I didn'. Well, kinda. Bu' it means much mo' comin' from y', chérie." He released her only to take a hold of her hands and back up slowly to view her. "Chére . . . y' so damn beau'iful. Mon Dieu, femme. I got no words . . ."

"Thanks, Remy. Thank you." Remy offered another dazzling smile. He couldn't tear away.

"Ahem," a gruff voice interrupted. Remy didn't seem to notice, he just continued smiling and staring. Ororo giggled lightly.

"Please. Who is your friend, Remy?" she asked politely, turning towards Logan.

He blinked. "Oh! Dis is uh - uh - -" for some reason it wasn't coming to him. Coherent thoughts seemingly beyond him at this point.

"- - er, Logan," Logan growled, annoyed.

"Yeah, dis be mon ami. Logan," Remy smirked, introducing her.

"Pleasure to meet you, Logan. I'm Ororo," she said, offering her dainty brown hand to meet with Logan's large, calloused, hairy-palmed one. The difference drastic.

He accepted it cautiously as deja-vu swept over him. The realization dawned on him like a fresh, morning sunrise, "Ororo! From Baltimore! Ya - ya worked in a psychiatric clinic in Baltimore. I met with ya a couple times! The hot doctor—Frost—she was the head shrink there."

Ororo's brows furrowed slighty in thought and bewilderment, plumbing her memory banks.

_Howlett_.

". . . Why, yes! James. James Howlett." She laughed happily, shaking his hand enthusiactically.

"Ya got it, darlin'. I told Gumbo here yer named sounded familiar."

". . . So wait. Y' doctored him, chére?" Remy asked, confused.

"No, I did not. I only helped Dr. Emma as an assistant. At the time I was still in med-school. She allowed me to help, graciously giving me some experience in working in a doctor's office. I met Mr. Howlett here while I assisted there. How incredible!"

"How is good ol' Frost," Logan inquired, still boggled by the encounter. _She's Remy's girl? No wonder. Lucky bastard. Lucky, lucky bastard._

Ororo smiled. "She is Mrs. Frost-**Summers **now, Mr. Howlett. And she and her husband are doing just fine. There out of the country establishing a new clinic. I hope you get to see her sometime. She and her husband travel frequently, she will be delighted to know you are well. You **are **well, I hope?"

"Jus' peachy, darlin'. I never imagined you were the one Gumbo was acting all crazy over," Logan added, his lack of tact ever present.

Ororo blushed at the statement, eyes dropping bashfully. Remy rolled his own and looked at Logan warningly. "Well, that is comforting," Ororo covered for him, she grabbed his hand and squeezed, "He's has had me that way as well."

Logan's unlit cigar hung limply in his mouth. His gray eyes wide.

She glanced at Remy shyly and smiled; that pretty, shy smile. Remy locked his dark eyes with the large crystalline orbs. Watching as her smile widened minutely. Ororo stared in turn, Remy's stubbled gorgeous face, breathtakingly handsome. A face that sent instant pangs of desire through her body. His features dark and charming. He was perfect. Undeniably perfect.

Logan looked at the beautiful couple, their hands connected tightly. The two of them undeniably the most gorgeous of their respective sexes. The Cajun was indeed a lucky bastard. The cards were always in his favor.

"Well - er - have fun kids . . ." Logan grunted. The dreamy looks of longing the two were sharing were too sweet and precious for him. And admittedly, it was a bit hard to see. Logan knew the two hadn't set anything in stone yet, but when and if the two allowed love to bloom between them, it would be an earth-moving love. You know, the kind everyone writes about in books and poems and songs. It was possible for them, in their reach; he could smell it. And furthermore . . . it wouldn't take long.

"See ya, mon ami," Remy said, placing his gentle hand on the small of Ororo's slender back as he guided her towards the door.

"Goodbye, Mr. Howlett! Good seeing you!" she called over her shoulder.

"Just Lo - -", the duo disappeared before he could finish, "- - gan." He finished, chuckling in his gutturally coarse tone.

* * *

"So, ma chère. Where we headed, eh?" Remy asked, helping Ororo into her side of his vehicle, holding open the door to the luxury vehicle.

"Its completely up to me?" she asked, grinning.

"O' course," he said enthusiastically, "Remy LeBeau is a man o' his word, girl." That beautiful, bright smile again. "Okay. Well . . . I just wanted to . . . kind of see where the day takes us. Play it by ear, that okay?"

"Absolutement."

Remy started the ignition and began pulling out the parking lot. "Wan' de radio on, 'Ro?"

"Yes, please."

"I got it." With a push off a button, music was pouring out of the speakers.

"Thank you." Remy only winked in reply.

Ororo wrung her hands slightly. Trying to disguise her nervousness. Not a bad nervous, more one born out of excited anticipation. He smelled so good, she noticed as he sat beside her. So masculine yet beautiful. His snug burgundy shirt showing his hard body to disgustingly perfect advantage. His red-brown silk hair hung loose around his face, falling around past his shoulders. Carefree. The shirt color complementing his silky straight tresses. She noted with disappointment that his contacts were in, but she concluded he was probably uncomfortable sans them in public.

_A true shame_, she thought ruefully. So unbelievably gorgeous, yet prejudice made him feel the need to hide them. Not unlike so many other things in the world. But this was a true crime, in Ororo's opinion. He had probably endured so many hateful words and reactions in his life because of them. Just thinking about someone hurting Remy made her heart break slightly. If Ororo could, she would protect his heart with her life.

It was unsettling how truthfully sincere such thoughts, such as those, were to her. "T'inkin' much, chére?" Remy teased, a playful tone coloring his voice upon his notice of her serious expression. "Y' not sick o' dis Cajun already eh, ma angè?" Ororo turned towards him slightly and allowed a small smile to touch her lips, "No," she shook head gently, "No. Never." She squeezed his much larger hand, a light squeeze of reassurance, of focused determination.

_. . . He's beautiful. And he's here . . . with __**me**__._

Ororo perked up as she heard the song on the radio that reached her ears. "Ooh, this is my song!" she gushed, "May I?" she asked, pointing to the stereo.

"O' course, chérie."

A please smile appeared on Remy's face at her uncharacteristic gleefulness, as she steadily increased the volume. The heated smile widened as he glanced over at her. His amused grin bright as she repeated the song's sassy intro:

_Oh baby, how you doing?_

_You know, I'm gonna cut right to the chase_

_Some women were made but me, myself _

_I like to think that I was created for a special purpose_

_You know, what's more special than you? You feel me?_

He laughed under his breath, delightful like a little boy when Ororo peeked over at him and winked somewhat suggestively before continuing her impromptu concert. Or was that just his own wistful thinking?

_It's on baby, lets get lost_

_You don't need to call into work 'cause you the boss_

_For real, want you to show me how you feel I consider myself lucky, that's a big deal_

_Why? Well, you got the key to my heart, but you ain't 'gon need it_

_I'd rather you open up my body and show me secrets_

_You didn't know was inside, no need for me to lie _. . .

The woman knew every word of the song verbatim. It was all Remy could do not to watch her swaying opposite him in tune with the music.

_It's too big, it's too wide_

_It's too strong, it won't fit_

_It's too much, it's too tough_

_He talk like this 'cause he can back it up_

_He got a big ego, such a huge ego_

_I love his big ego, its too much _

_He walk like this 'cause he can back it up_

_Usually I'm humble, right now I don't choose_

_You can leave with me, or you can have the blues_

_Some call it arrogant, I call it confident_

_You decide when you find out what I'm working with_

_Damn . . . I know. _

_I'm killing you with them legs, better yet them thighs_

_Matter-of-fact, its my smile or maybe my eyes_

_Boy, you a sight to see, kinda something like me . . ._

Remy's eyes involuntarily bulged hearing Ororo's soft voice singing the lyrics to the mildly risqué song. Not only was it surprising . . . but it turned him on.

_Mon. Dieu._

Ororo's naturally sultry voice only added wood to the proverbial fire. It was so sexy sung in that soft, low, accented tone of hers. He was pleasantly shocked while catching her performance through his gratuitously, not-so-subtle glances. Was this the same woman who wore her bun tight at the bask of her neck, and couldn't meet his eyes for more than a couple of seconds. Who blushed anytime he said something remotely flirtatious? Fifteen minutes max, he'd spent in her presence yet she'd turned him on so much, it took all Remy's willpower to drive properly.

"If Remy didn' kno' better chérie, he'd say y' were tryin' t' start somet'ing, hien?" he said, narrowing his sinfully dark eyes playfully at her. Real, rich, melodious laughter emanted from her throat as she shut her eyes, her mouth falling open as she laughed. Everything within their radius seemed to brighten substantially with the action.

Their day together had barely begun and she was already having the time of her life. Trying to pinpoint the last time she had laughed like that would have been futile—she honestly couldn't remember.

"Y' gotta nice voice, a nice laugh, girl. Remy likes dat." He smiled tenderly at his laughing beauty. Heartfelt.

"Oh, Remy . . ." she breathed, shaking her head at his highly successful attempts of being marvelously charming. God, was he beautiful. His velvety, low voice hypnotic and sexy. He'd normally be the type of man Ororo would disdain simply because he possessed the raw power to make any female he came into contact with melt and simultaneously surrender even if they did not want to—women like her. And he was arrogant, there was denying that fact, but he was so gorgeous and precious that it just suited him. Remy LeBeau carried his delectable arrogance with a genuine humility. An oxymoronic contradiction; but the only way she could hope to describe it.

Her lilt carrying his name on her breath sent sensuous, electric shivers coursing down his spine. What was this woman doing to him? A mere fifteen minutes of carefree companionship in Ororo's presence was more satisfyingly fulfilling than the five years of tainted love he'd shared with Anna. And the day had only just begun . . .

* * *

"Y' sure 'bout dis, belle?" Remy asked as he searched in vain for a parking space close to the park.

Ororo appeared worried, her eyes widening. "We do not have to be here if you do not want to," she offered quickly. "I ju - -"

"Non, chère. Remy don' mind," he corrected just as swiftly, patting the hand he had pulled towards him.

"I know it seems childish, but I just really love the rides and - -"

"Chère," Remy stated firmly, raising her chin with a single knuckle to get her attention, eyes deadlocked, "Its okay. Dis is fine. Y' wan' ride de 'rides, y' can ride de 'rides. Eh? Ma petite fille," he cooed teasingly.

Ororo gave a nervous and relieved chuckle, "Okay," she agreed. Remy smiled and exited the car, heading over to her side to open her door. As he smiled at her and linked his toned arms in hers and began heading to the entrance Ororo chastised herself fiercely. How stupid was she to ask to go to a carnival? This was something she could do any ol' time. And now as he and she walked towards the park's entrance, she felt keenly embarrassed.

_Idiot. _She berated herself. She just wanted to try her best to be herself and "herself" liked shutting her eyes and screaming at the top of her lungs as rode the rollercoasters, body coursing with adrenaline and fear. Now she was rethinking it. Maybe she shouldn't be herself. Since feasting her eyes upon him in his bar, all handsome and sexy, Ororo had felt she was acting a bit too familiar. A bit too . . . free. What must he be thinking of her? Her VMA performance in the car? She groaned inwardly. _Such a fool_. She couldn't help herself. Being with Remy, outside of her office, him so charming and hot; it made her feel free. Not as uptight as she had the tendency to be. Ororo just wanted to the day to be fun and give him a little glimpse into the real Ororo Munroe. Not the anal retentive woman he saw in her office bi-weekly.

Remy was amused. She had picked a carnival as their first stop on their day together. Interesting. Remy looked down at her. She appeared to be in deep thought. Her face full of careful contemplation. "Wan' t' walk 'round a bit? See wha' dey got goin' on?" he asked.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Sure, thank you," she smiled tightly. Remy saw it, but said nothing. It wasn't him was it? God, he hoped not. Things had been going so well so far. This was unusual, the Cajun NEVER had dating issues. Probably because he skipped the dating part and went straight to the bedding part. Remy disconnected their arms. As incredibly tactile as Remy LeBeau was he didn't want to make Ororo uncomfortable. Maybe that's what it was . . . he was too anxious to touch. He'd already touched her several times since leaving the restaurant. It was so hard not to. Each moment of contact sending jolts of fire at the point of contact. But he wouldn't ruin this. Not for her—not for him.

The couple strolled slowly, content to enjoy the fact that they were together. In each other's presence. When Remy began to notice the leering looks his companion was getting from nearly every male in their vicinity he grabbed her hand and pulled Ororo closer. His long arms going unconsciously around her small waist. Possessively. He sucked his teeth, annoyed. Not that he could blame them. Usually, he was one of those very guys. The same way when his eyes would fall upon a pretty girl. Still, it didn't change the fact he was perturbed by it presently. Ororo's eyes fluttered and tried her best not to lean into the hard, warm embrace. But as his warmth and strength seeped into her body she felt helpless to resist it. She burrowed her face near his chest, heart pounding as she received the feel of his hard chest. Masculine.

_Mmm. _

Remy glanced back down at her, his gaze catching her strange expression. He loosened his grip on her. At the loss of contact Ororo peered up immediately, sorry she had made him uncomfortable. "I - I am sorry," she stammered, a embarrassed blush darkening her bronze cheeks, relinquishing her hold as well.

"Fo' wha', chèrie?" Remy asked, bewildered. "I - I - -" _Crap_. "For standing so close. I did not mean to invade your personal space," she apologized sheepishly. Remy regarded her for a few seconds and then shook his head chuckling. "Not'ing t' apologize fo', girl. Trus' me, Remy'll never be upset at y' fo' bein' too close t' him. Merde, dere ain' no such t'ing. I let go 'cause I t'ought y' were feelin' uncomfortable. Y' ain' said much, an' we've walked 'round a couple o' times . . . y' don' see anyt'ing y'd like t' try?" he asked concerned.

"Oh. I am sorry, Remy. I - I just feel silly asking you to come here."

"Not'ing silly dere, chère. Remy came t' de carnival all de time when he was a pup," he reasoned, shrugging.

"But I am not a 'pup.' This was immature of me," she stated. Her regal, aloofness once again in place.

Remy took her delicate hand and squeezed it. "Y' like wha' y' like, chère. Not'ing wrong wit' dis," he said, waving around to the festivities that surrounded them. The giggling children, the overworked carnies. The happy families and the grabby couples, the quirky clowns and mimes. Who was she trying to kid? She loved this! But still . . .

Remy immediately picked up on her hesitance. "We jus' havin' fun, 'Roro. Don' be nervous or 'fraid. Where's de girl who was singin' in de car earlier?" he teased, tickling her sides teasingly. Ororo laughed, bowing over in merriment as he tickled her gently. That lovely laughter again. "Okay," she conceded as he let her go, "If you say so," she warned, winking at him. Already picking up his catching habits.

Remy looked at her, his expression serious a moment. He leaned forward and puckered, laying a slow kiss on her supple cheek. Stroking her jaw line with a slender finger. "Oui. Dat's my girl," he whispered in her ear. His voice smooth, low. A shudder ran through Ororo. Remy felt it. Smug that he had been the one to cause it. She gazed up at him leisurely, a slow smirk shaping his soft lips. Lips she wanted. Badly.

Ororo gave a trembling smile. Her stunning blue eyes spontaneously flashing with a devious glint. Remy almost gasped at the perceptible change. Before he could utter another word, Ororo grabbed his hand. Tight. "Lets go!" she squealed, dragging a grinning Remy back towards a ride she had seen earlier and wanted to try. "Hope your not afraid of heights," she challenged.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thank you for your interest/patience in this story & all your reviews =)  
FicWriters tend to find them really encouraging & rewarding.

Next chapter: Part deux of Remy _- & - _Ororo's date.


	24. Chapter 24

**- 24 -**

Remy discovered the woman had a sweet tooth the size of Louisiana. It wasn't too difficult to see as he watched with amused eyes her consume two candied-apples, a bag of cotton candy, and now they were standing in line for a golden-brown funnel cake layered with white confectioner's sugar. After the swirling, looping, twisting rollercoaster the two had just disembarked from he didn't understand how she could eat anything. His own stomach was a bit queasy still. Perhaps he should have heeded her warning.

Ororo licked her thumb and index finger clean of the sticky pink cotton she had just finished off, oblivious to Remy's dancing eyes that watched her with a certain fondness blazing in their depths. He thought she was adorable. Adorable and gorgeous as she looked at him and smiled, her tongue stained from the pink and blue treat she had just partook of. He prayed a kiss from her lips would be just as sweet.

Ororo's demeanor was much more relaxed than it had been previously. If the arm she had coiled around his hip was an indication. He smiled when she spoke.

"Wow, thank you so much for all this, Remy. I am really enjoying myself," she smiled as she lifted her face to meet his gaze. Remy bent down and kissed her temple firmly. "Y' welcome, ma chère. I'm glad y' enjoyin' yo'self."

"Are _**you **_enjoying yourself, Remy?" she asked concerned, her white brows knitted together in question. "Y' kno' it, girl. I nevah 'magined y' bein' so . . . carefree. Y' so beau'iful when y' laughin' and smilin'," he doted, "Remy loves dis side of y'."

Ororo grinned shyly as his eyes glimmered with inner warmth. His eyelids lowered slowly, as Ororo leaned in hesitantly as well. Faces drawing nearer in the tenderness of the moment.

"So what can I get for ya?"

The pair turned towards the unwelcome interruption, both cursing inwardly at the intrusion. Ororo blushed deeply. Remy smirked. "Oh, I am sorry," Ororo apologized to the brunette behind the ordering window, who chomped loudly on her bubblegum. Her name-tag read: Wanda.

The hazel-eyed brunette glanced at Remy and grinned flirtatiously. "Mm-hmm, no problem," she said. Her attempt at being cute and flirtatious not going unnoticed by either party. Remy chuckled lowly and let out a small cough of amusement. Ororo gave a tight smile as the young woman completely ignored her, her attention falling on a more enticing object.

"Ummmm, do you want something, Remy? French fries . . . a pretzel?" Ororo asked, one of her blue eyes on the menu list, the other on the gawking girl behind the counter.

"Yes, _**Remy**_. Do you see something you - uh - want?" the girl cooed, leaning further out into the window where her shirt could reveal a hint of freckled cleavage. Ororo seethed inwardly. Anyone who saw Ororo and Remy would have had the decency to assume they were together. Apparently, this girl did not have any. Not only was she hitting on Remy in front of a woman she had to have assumed was his girlfriend, but she was blatantly trying to give Remy a peek at her 'goodies'. Moreover, she wasn't even being coy about.

Remy glanced over at Ororo quickly. Under normal circumstances, he would flirt with the eager girl in return, but he would not think of disrespecting Ororo in such a way. Not only that, but he really wasn't feeling it. Could his eyes even begin to wander when a stunning goddess was at his side? He knew Ororo would never behave the way the other woman was; she had too much taste, too much class.

A flash heat of jealously flared through Ororo. ". . . Obviously it seems _**you **_do, Miss," Ororo cut in sharply, her eyes immediately locked with Remy's. "Too bad for you everything he wants is right … here," Ororo punctuated clearly, her hand draped across her chest; her tone of voice clipped and firm. "Ain't that right, _**baby**_?" she whispered into his ear, balancing on her tiptoes gracefully. She nibbled on Remy's ear lightly for a more . . . dramatic effect.

Remy's breath caught and did not start up again when he heard her soft whisper in his ear. It pounded twice as hard when it resumed its beat at her gentle nibbling. She was so close, her body warm, her pleasant scent a sweet, sweet savor to his nose. The soft hand she placed on his hard pecs burned hot against his chest as she stroked it delicately with feather-light touches. Her fingers trailing up gingerly to his stubble-strewn face, where she forced it close to her parted lips, placing a butterfly kiss to the corner of his slightly panting mouth.

Remy licked his lips hungrily. An automatic reaction to being so deliciously close to her tempting mouth.

Time to turn it up a bit, he thought excitedly. He sighed a sigh of pleasure before speaking: "Dat's right, femme," his arms closed around her, "All Remy wan' is right here," he said in his most seductive voice. Grabbing her neck, Remy met her the rest of the way, kissing her hard. You would never have know they were putting on a show from the heated way the two kissed. Remy held her head close as he explored her lips; her taste made even more wonderful from the billowy cotton candy she had eaten earlier. He wanted to lap it from off her tongue. He definitely put forth a valiant effort to as he roamed her mouth unashamedly.

Ororo's mind was screaming. A swift breeze seemingly out of nowhere lifting both white and auburn hair round about them. Her body's natural electricity circuited through her body emitting a barely noticeable blue glow from her mocha skin. Gentle sparks touched her lips and spread to Remy's. He laughed in her mouth from the tickling sensation, prematurely ending their steamy lip contact. Ororo's hand gripped his silky-straight hair tightly; both breathing each other's air from their close proximity. Dark smoldering eyes holding sparkling blues. A foggy moment of destiny causing both hearts to race with adrenaline and excitement. The jolting, sky-scrapping park rides had not even come close.

Had they not been lost in their own world they would have seen the shocked expression on the girl behind the window. Her mouth hung open in surprise and intrigue. Even she couldn't deny how hot the kissed had looked and she found herself unable to look away. Silently cursing her misfortune at not being the one in Ororo's place.

"Uh. Sorry. I - w - I'll - um, give you guys a moment to decide," she stammered and left with the utmost speed.

As her words snapped Ororo out of her Remy-induced fog, Ororo released the Vulcan grip she had in his hair and looked away nervously. Her chest heaving with desire and disbelief at what she had just done. Admittedly, that treat was much better than the funnel cake.

"Mmm. Damn, chère . . ." Remy exclaimed with apparent amazement. Ororo chuckled nervously, her eyes dropping down to her manicured toes.

"I - I guess that surprised her," Ororo giggled nervously, "I am terribly sorry."

"Mon Dieu, woman. Don' y' even," he demanded lifting her face to get her attention. "Dat was de best t'ing t' happen t' Remy all night," he drawled mellifluously. Ororo blushed at his comment.

". . . How 'bout y', chère?" Remy asked inquisitively. His deep voice soft and curious.

". . . Me too," she answered. Her admitted words barely a breath as she searched his face with fervor. His mouth formed a knee-weakening smile, bright in its white brilliance. "Come wit' me," he took her hand in his, "Remy's turn t' pick a place, ma belle," he ordered, veering them towards the direction of the parking lot. The funnel cake and everything else forgotten as they exited the park together.

* * *

There was something to be seen in Remy's frequent sidelong glances as he drove them away from the bustling atmosphere of the carnival, through the quiet back roads of New Orleans where only the sounds of approaching night could be heard. Most of Ororo's attention was directed towards the incredible scenery and backdrops she passed as they rode. She could virtually name all the native trees and flowers as they passed by them in a blur of color causing Ororo to smile in simple delight at the beauty of the Crescent City.

But every once in a while, the feeling of penetrating dark eyes would make her amber skin bristle with the awareness of it and Ororo would turn her head only to find Remy's pensive gaze settled upon her. Each time she would chance a small smile and promptly return her eyes back to the fading scenery. His hot gaze stoking the fire inside of her soul, making it burn brighter, burn hotter. More ferocious and all-consuming. His stare igniting the embers their kiss earlier had not.

The silence that filled the car was expectant and it pulsated with a mutual knowledge and understanding. A keen connection roping in the two anxious occupants. The sky showing the first hints of an approaching dusk. The flaming orange sun willing everything it fell upon to reflect a burnished-gold color, the slightest traces of purple in the sky bringing with it a feeling of romanticism and allure.

In words, nothing was discussed nor was there any conversation between the two, as both silently pondered the attraction and the heat of the previous kiss. But the silent looks that passed between each of them spoke much. Quiet words of desire and enjoyment and tenderness and comfort—rightness and belonging. A silent truth hung in the air with the promise of reward and fulfilled desire.

"Dis is it, chère. We here," he proclaimed as he shifted the car into park and turned off the engine. Ororo looked around curiously at what and where 'here' was.

"Come on, chère," he beckoned as he made his way towards her side of the car and opened the door for her. Ororo smiled up at him as he eagerly took hold of her hand and pulled her alongside him, further into the clearing. She could not help but smile as she allowed Remy to guide her through the grove of _ trees. She noted with great appreciation the plants and trees surrounding them, and listened intently as she clearly heard the rush of water coming from up ahead. Remy looked back once during their proceedings and only to wink at her and continue trudging through the foliage, fallen twigs crunching under their feet.

After about five minutes, the two emerged from the nest of tress to a wide-open clearing, several Oak trees forming a private circle of sorts. A myriad of plants and lovely magnolias beautifying their natural abode. Ororo's mouth hung agape as a look of awe and appreciation brightened her face. Her beseeching eyes wide. A stream of water flowed several feet in front of them, cleverly pooling to the side where it formed a small lake.

Remy turned to look at her, a true smile shaping his lips as he held steadfastly to her hand, an attempt to keep her close. Her awed expression pleased him immensely.

"What y' t'ink, petite? Y' like it, non?" he inquired curiously.

"Oh, Remy . . . It is so gorgeous . . . I - wow . . ." she mumbled under her breath. Her tone holding a hint of awe. The golden rays of the sun hit the ripples of the water creating tiny flecks of gold on its surface; that with all the sights, sounds, and smells, around them created a very inviting atmosphere. Almost as if he had read her thoughts Remy spoke, "Well, time fo' us t' enjoy dis, non?" he proposed as he began stripping and discarding his clothes.

"Huh?" Ororo queried as she watch in shocked surprise Remy peeling off his snug t-shirt to reveal perfectly defined and sleekly muscled arms. His skin was smooth like buttermilk and absolutely flawless. It was as if everything had gone into slow-motion as she watched with startled blue eyes more and more of his wonderful body be revealed.

Ororo's look of extreme appreciation did not go unnoticed by Remy and he smirked at the expression of captivation on her face; one he had seen on many women's faces innumerable times before, but seeing it firsthand on Ororo's face made it all the more satisfying and ego-boosting.

The clackle of his belt being loosed abruptly brought her back to reality and she turned around with great swiftness to give him his privacy, her heart racing fiercely, trying desperately to swallow; her mouth and throat having gone dry while watching Remy undress. Lost in her body's own keen reaction to Remy, Ororo's body went rigid as steel when she felt his heated body pressed firmly against her back, his breath hot against her head and neck. His body's fit against her precise and perfect.

The immediate tension in her body at his brush of contact pleased him and he smiled against the side of her face as he whispered into her ear, "Join de Cajun in a swim, chère?"

God, how she wanted to turn around; knowing if she did that her lips would come into immediate contact with his own once more. The first time properly whetting her appetite. She settled on attempting to speak instead, her words hoarse and shaky when she spoke—still not daring to move, "O - okay. Um - what I am supposed to swim in?" she asked already knowing the answer.

He placed a gentle hand on her arm, turning her around carefully to face him. He lifted her face, cupping her chin and gave her a sly look communicating his silent answer to her question with much effectiveness. Ororo's eyes grew wide, "You want me to swim in my - -" she gulped, " - - under things?" she asked him, fearfully. Remy chuckled at the look of shock on her face. "Oui, dat's de plan, chère," he answered cheerfully, "Remy won' look, girl. I promise . . . unless y' wan' me t'," he teased with a wink; the sensual glare in his eyes translating onto his face made Ororo shiver. She dropped her snow-covered head, rubbing her arms to erase the goosebumps suddenly covering her flesh.

She offered a weak smile. Her eyes sought out a vaguely proper place to change. "I'll just . . . change behind that tree over there," she gestured and began to walk slowly towards the large tree, leaving Remy to watch her with amused eyes and a playful grin on his face.

Ororo exhaled deeply as she eased out of her clothing. First, removing her sandals and pairing them side by side neatly. The only item left was her dress and she cursed herself for her foolishness as it slipped easily over head and she hung it over a sturdy tree limb, leaving her stripped down to nothing but a matching white lace bra and panty set. At a loss for what to do now Ororo unnecessarily removed the bangle on her wrist. _Now what? _she pondered nervously twiddling her cherry-red polished toes nervously for lack of anything better to do. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice: "Y' ready, chère? C'mon," he called out to her encouragingly.

"You go on, Remy! I'll be out in a minute!" she stalled.

"Y' finished undressin' yet?" he yelled back.

"Well . . . yes!"

"Den wha' y' waitin' fo', petite?"

". . . Uh," she wrapped her arms around her torso tightly, embarrassed and flushed at the thought of coming from behind the tree in only her undergarments and Remy seeing her. She bit her lip fretfully as she contemplated what to say to him next. Her mouth opened and closed as if to speak but said nothing. She didn't even hear his approach.

"Dere y' are, belle," he greeted with a smile. Appearing as if from thin air. She jumped back from him greatly startled, one hand over her thundering heart. "Remy!" she exclaimed in shock and surprise. Her chest heaved heavily at her labored breathing, blinking absently at Remy's strange expression. His black gaze made its way over every inch of her half-naked form. His eyes like fire licked over her slightly trembling body; from her polished toes up past the endless columns of her smooth legs, slightly rounded hips, her taunt stomach, young full breast incased in white lace, finally resting on her fearful blue sapphires. "Mon Dieu." His statement breathy and full of delight and awe. She was picturesque and unbelievably stunning. A wonder to see and behold.

"Please, don' be shy, ma magnifique chérie. Y' are beau'iful." His words held a rare humility and earnest sincerity. The tone so pleasing and comforting to Ororo she slowly unfolded her long arms and let them drop unheeded to her sides, leaving herself open to his hungry perusal. It was the first time she noticed herself he was only in navy boxers. Her blue gaze was just as hungry as Remy's as she involuntary found herself panting under her breath as she drank in his beauty and wonderfully delicious musculature.

His steps were light and deliberately slow as he drew closer to her coming well within her personal space until her covered breasts were pressed against his firm chest. Her eyes trailing up to make contact with his. His face held such warmth and tenderness Ororo offered him a luminous smile in reward for it and brushed a small strand of dark hair away from his eyes.

"Thank you, Remy."

"No need t' t'ank Remy fo' de truth, chérie." She smiled shyly at the compliment.

"Ah! So she's modest, too," he said as if newly discovering this aspect of her character.

She shook her head slightly, ". . . Perhaps you just have a way of humbling people, Remy LeBeau," Ororo remarked as she held his eyes for effect. He was quiet as he regarded her, silently contemplating her kindness and the strange reason his heart swelled with affection at her tender words. A delicate heart-felt touching of lips was her only reply as he closed the distance between them with seeking moist lips. Ororo sighed with satisfaction in his mouth, Remy maneuvering his tongue between her lips and into her mouth as he melded to her. A deep moan blossoming forth from his chest, up from his throat, as he allowed himself to enjoy her sweetness. The grip he had on the womanly curve of her hips tightened and Ororo wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands in his abundant head of hair as she massaged her fingertips gently into his scalp. Running her soft hands over his smooth heated back, the feel of him under her searching hands nothing short of remarkable, both sets of eyes still closed shut.

He withdrew slowly and smiled at her, a scant space between their swollen lips. Ororo mirrored his smile as she rubbed her hands briefly down his bare chest. Without a word or permission Remy took her long white braid into his hand loosing the band on the end of it letting it drop to the ground. Focused on his work, Remy undid the thick braid, unraveling it and spreading it out. The white silk of her hair falling past her shoulders and back down to her waist—crimpy and wavy from the braided style she had had it in. "Lovely," he noted in regards to the mass of hoary silk that fell around her. He stroked the silvery-white heap that fell over her shoulders and grinned. A job well done, he intertwined his fingers with her own and pulled her alongside him as he walked them both to the edge of the pooled water.

"Let's go fo' a swim, chère." After their kiss both were very much in need of one. She smiled and nodded as she allowed him to carefully walk them down to the running water. Toes immersed, then legs, all the way up to their waists. Remy let go of her hand only when the water sloshed lightly against their chests and they both could swim freely. The water warm and refreshing.

"Warm 'nough fo' y', 'Ro?" he inquired with concern.

"Yes, more than," she grinned, "This is beautiful, Remy," she exclaimed, waving around at their surroundings—drops of water dripping from her hand.

"Oui. I kno'. Me an' my brot'er Henri used t' come 'ere as pups. Mostly durin' de summer when school was out. Durin' fourth period when it wasn'," he confessed. Ororo laughed at him, shaking her head.

"You have a brother, Remy?"

"Oui, a younger bro'ter. Y'll get t' meet him," he stated matter-of-factly.

Ororo raised a curious eyebrow. "I will?"

"O' course, girl. He's got t' meet ma beau'iful femme, non?" he winked. Something Ororo noticed he did very frequently. It was adorable. She shook her head again. Such a charmer . . . such a flatterer. The man was fascinatingly dangerous, with that thought she told him: "You are trouble, you know that?" she giggled.

He swam closer towards her. Ororo watched as his sleek muscles rippled with each fluid stroke of his arms. He was gorgeous. Coming up he floated in front of her, his long hair dark with damp wetness, plastered to his face and shoulders. He kissed her lips, "But I'm good trouble, chère," he grinned mischievously.

"Yeah . . . right," she smiled near his lips as they resumed their kiss.

* * *

"Mmm. I love this song," Ororo told him as she sat back on the grass with Remy, nestled comfortably between his long legs, her back against his chest, both still clad in their underwear—though now damp from their swim nearly an hour and a half ago. The sun rested low in the sky, the violet horizon now clearly visible; the smallest glimpse of stars beginning to twinkle in the soon-coming night.

"Yeah?" he paused and listened to the song coming from the stereo of his car, doors opened to better hear the music.

"Michael Jackson . . . 'Human Nature', right?"

"Mm-hmm, that's it," she added, looking up at him with a smile.

"Oui, it's a good song," he agreed with a nod.

"It . . . it reminds me of tonight. I don't know why," she smiled, "I guess the beat of the song. The music . . . it's beautiful. Light. The way I feel now—light with happiness."

Remy looked down at her, listening to her words. She had such a way of saying things. So warm and simple. He bent his head and kissed her forehead. She amazed him. "Dat's beautiful, chère. I'm glad y' feel dat way."

He spoke again after a few moments silence: "Y' really love music, eh chère?" he asked knowingly. He could tell. Whenever it came to music she responded with such enthusiasm, something one gets when participating in something they love.

"Oh, I do. So much," she confessed, "In music so many people have already written and expressed things I couldn't. How I feel. My emotions. My personal thoughts. They've already expressed it—in music. Whenever I hear it or sing it or play, it becomes the perfect expression. It adequately conveys what words alone can not. I love it."

Remy logged that away for safekeeping. Another way of understanding her, who she was. And that, he desperately wanted to know.

Ororo covered the strong arms around her waist with her own. She grabbed his larger hand and lifted it to her lips, kissing his fingers with thought and care. Squeezing it within her own as resumed her position against him and sighed with contented happiness. "Thank you for this, Remy. I am thankful for the time we spent together today. I have not enjoyed myself like this for a long time. Your kindness . . . your patience with me. I cannot tell you how grateful I am," she admitted in tone barely above a whisper. And they were indeed words of truth. She relished how he made her feel today.

Remy hugged her tighter in response, resting his cheek on her damp mane of hair. He inhaled the scent of her body, of her hair, so close to him. Intoxicating and soothing to his soul; her words meaning so much to him. Burrowing deep into his heart. "D'accord, ma chère. D'accord," he sighed and kissed her warm shoulder. She turned at the gesture and pecked him on the cheek, reaching back to caress his roughly-shaven face. The afternoon had been so surreal. How had she gone from being instantly attracted to him from the first moment he had graced the doors of her office, to lying comfortably close in his arms in the bosom of this natural sanctuary—heart and mind completely at peace? Feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath her, Ororo could only dream of what fate would see fit to bless her with next.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I love music! Ororo's feelings on it are definitely a reflection of the author's feelings bleeding into the story, lol. Yes, finally Remy and Ororo have had some romance and kisses. :squeals in fluffy happiness: Please forgive me for all the grammatical errors/mistakes in the story. I am my own beta :D Do not be afraid to give constructive criticism if you should see fit. It may assist me in future writings. This fic has been a huge learning/trial & error process for me. 'Til the next update—thanks for reading ;-)


	25. Chapter 25

Author's Note: First & foremost, let me say that I am terribly sorry about the wait between updates. Really, I feel horrible. I'm currently writing another OreO fic _and _I'm planning/plotting/outlining another lengthy AU (which I'm mega excited about) plus work, school, & on top of all that—I'm moving! (wipes imaginary sweat from brow) I also apologize for not replying to reviews sooner. I can't thank you enough for your interest & patience. Over a month is inexcusable, & again I'm very sorry. Thank you again to everyone who has added me to their alert list & favorite author's list, etc. I wish I could thank everyone in person =)

So . . . as a token of my gratitude, and in a show of penance, I've decided to update with two chapters to make up for the lost time. I hope they're both well received. Oh & thanks to Brazos for your kind Labor Day wishes, I hope you enjoyed yours as well :D

And so, here we go . . .

* * *

**- 25 -**

"_Mrs. Dania Christiano continues to be doing incredibly well. Her tremendous strides towards a healthy self-image, free from her Dysmorphophobia, have been wonderfully encouraging, and as of our last meeting, she has not sought a cosmetic consultation in a little over a month. Markedly, her relationship with her husband has shown improvement as well. I believe his steadfast encouragement and constant nurturing through her ordeal with the disorder has finally taken effect. The dynamic between . . . "_

The previously recorded patient log droned on in the background with Ororo half listening to it. Her attention was divided between the uncompleted document on her laptop screen and the recording she was listening over one last time before giving it to Kathryn to transcribe. Her nose wrinkled as a frown marred her soft features as she reviewed several documents within the teetering stack of manila folders that covered her desk; thumbing through the documents with rapid pace.

Her quaint condo was virtually silent. The only noises being heard were the swish of papers as she licked her thumb and leafed through them, and the quiet humming of the central air-conditioning unit. The temperature had been uncomfortably high earlier that day, a day that would have been perfect for a cool, refreshing swim. A delicate smile crossed Ororo's face inadvertently as she casually reminisced about her afternoon spent with Remy by the tucked away lake he had taken her to. It really had been lovely, and the wonderful natural surrounding he'd afforded had truly been memorable.

Apparently, not to be outdone by the air-conditioning unit, her empty stomach growled loudly, angry at haven been ignored for at least several hours now. She'd ordered a pizza, but was told the wait would be forty-five minutes at least—forty-five minutes obviously being too late for her rumbling stomach. Ororo rubbed it distractedly, and continued pecking away at the keys on her laptop. She was absently chewing on an ink pen when her door buzzed. The pizza guy.

"Come in. It is open!" she called out, her eyes failed to even drift from the plasma screen of her laptop for a moment as she yelled out the invitation. She patiently waited for the delivery guy to make his way to the small office right across from the living area, listening for the tread of his feet on the floor. She heard none.

_He must be lost. _

"In the office!" she yelled. She reluctantly raised her and looked at the entrance where the door was already propped open in anticipation of him. Her eyes waited at the entrance. She sniffed the air. No smell of pizza, though. Only . . . _Cloves? _Her heart began to race just as he appeared in the frame of her door. He was handsome personified with a sly grin on his face as he leaned lazily on the doorpost, dark hair loose and spilling down around his shoulders.

"S' nice place y' got. Not safe t' jus' let any ol' body in y' house, ma chère. E'vn if dis do be a nice neighbo'hood," he grinned.

Ororo's fingers paused on the keyboard mid-strike, her mouth falling open; a classic look of astonishment appeared on her face as her mind came to grips with his abrupt and unexpected presence in her apartment. The scoundrel.

"How . . . did you get in? I mean . . . past … Did Mr. Laborteaux let you in? The doorman in the lobby?" she asked with surprised disbelief. Her breathing was irregular and she watched him watch her with haunting eyes. The familiarly uncharacteristic rush she felt whenever he shared her company returned with tremendous force and she tried her best not to display how happy she was that he was suddenly with her—albeit unexpectedly. Still, she was pleased and excited he was there.

Remy's smile spread, "Dis Cajun got many tricks up his sleeves, chérie," he responded cryptically. His eyes twinkled with mirth and something else she could not describe as he watched her behind her desk, the large stack of files that teetered precariously nearly hiding her. Ororo sat lotus style in her plush desk chair, casually dressed in plain white yoga pants and a small white wife beater; lengthy white hair pulled back in a bouffant/ponytail, her toes twiddling in her black and white Nike ankle socks. He watched her with distinctly appreciative eyes.

"What are you doing here, Remy?" she asked softly, turning in her chair to face him. She still could not compute the fact that he was standing in front of her, in her home. Remy sauntered towards her slowly, full of his usual grace and leisure. Ororo's heart beat faster with every light step he took towards her as she watched him come around her desk. He bent down and kissed her lightly on her partly opened lips.

"Remy missed y', girl. T'ought he'd come an' see his petite, non?" He stroked her cheek with the tips of his fingers. Her eyelids fluttered against her will.

"O - oh," she responded dumbly.

His sharp eyes flashed over to her desk, the mountainous pile of papers and folders visually intimidating and he wasn't even the one that had to go through them all.

"Uh," he glanced at the stack again, "I t'ought dis was yo' weekend off, 'Ro?"

"It is."

Her eyes followed his. "Don' look like it t' Remy."

"Oh," she said when she saw where his eyes had fell, "Well, I have a lot of work to complete," she reasoned, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Huh - uh. None doin'," he commanded with a shake of his head, "C'mere," he beckoned, grabbing her hand and pulling her up out of her chair. She stood and stretched, her lengthy legs cramped from seating for several hours in the chair. Her pants rested low on her hips and when she stretched her long svelte body, the cotton shirt rode up over her navel. Remy smiled at her. Watching her with seeking eyes, Remy marveled at how even though she was casually dressed, there was no absolutely no disguising how unbelievably gorgeous she was.

"Wha' did Remy tell y' 'bout dis hair, belle?" he reprimanded, tsk-ing disapprovingly at her errant disobedience. He lifted the end of her ponytail up to her line of vision to further amplify his point. She followed the trail of his hands as he almost reverently began handling her abundant white tresses.

"I tol' y' how I like - non, how I _**wan' **_dis hair out," he mock-chastised, a heart-melting wink following to further add to his charm. Ororo grinned up at him, a tender curve of her lips as she watched him freeing her hair, much like he did by the lake that afternoon. He twirled a strand around a single dexterous finger, "Magnifique," he complimented with a wry smile.

"Satisfied?" she asked sarcastically, her hands sassily weighing on her each of her curving hips.

". . . Oui, bu' dey'll be much mo' satisfaction t' come," he declared with an air of promise. A sure, resolute promise. His words made Ororo shiver unintentionally as Remy took her hand once more and led her out the small home office to the direction of her kitchen.

"Huh?" she exclaimed when they'd reached her kitchen, a smile tugging at her lips, his hand warm within her own. Her eyes bulged. Loaded on her glass table kitchen were grocery bags filled with junk food: chips, soda, popcorn, snack cakes, and various bags of candy. Beside of them were a box of colorfully frosted donuts and various jars of dip and salsa.

Ororo laughed, her hand covering her mouth in incredulity. "What's all this?" she giggled, eyes wide.

"No mo' work t'day. We havin' an impromptu movie night, chère," he declared. His face shown with pride and satisfaction.

"We are?"

"Oui. No mo' laptop . . . but if y' wan', Remy's lap is always open fo' workin' on, chère" he drawled. He winked salaciously at her. Ororo blushed, coughing away her embarrassment at his sly innuendo.

"This . . . is nice Remy, really nice, but I have to- -"

"Non," he cut in. A firm shake of his head scattering his auburn hair across his face. "Food. Movies," he announced. His tone of voice leaving no room for argument.

Ororo regarded him in amazement. His dark denim jeans were snug and his black t-shirt fit just as snugly across his hard chest. His contacts were in though, disappointingly. Ororo had gotten her orders, she watched as he, on his own accord, began opening up various cabinets in search for her large bowls and plastic ware.

The doorbell sounded again and her home phone rang almost simultaneously, interfering with her ability to watch the charming gentleman as he made himself at home in her kitchen.

She headed towards the door, "The machine will pick it up, I think my pizza has finally arrived," she said. She stopped suddenly, remembering she had to get the money. Ororo ran hurriedly back in the living room to grab her wallet and then ran back to the door.

"Alright, 'Ro."

Remy continued his work of finding bowls and spoons, putting the popcorn into her microwave above the counter. He turned around and began picking up the grocery bags to discard when he heard the voicemail:

"Ororo, this is Nathan. This is like, my third time calling your house. I - uh, I don't have your cell phone number. Um - I called because I wondering if you wanted get together this afternoon. I - uh, just figured it would be nice, you know? No pressure. If you can't that's fine, I just thought I would ask. Maybe you'd want to talk or something. Anyways, uh - please give me a call back. Let me know, okay? Bye."

Remy stilled while listening to the message, his ire rising just a little.

_Nathan?_

"I think the popcorn is about ready, Remy," Ororo said as she came though the kitchen, steaming pizza in hand, "Mmm, that is definitely Mr. Redenbacher," she sniffed approvingly. "I guess we will have pizza to go along with the rest of our very nutritious meal, eh Remy?" she winked playfully. She sat the pizza down on the table, turning to around to face him. Her white brows immediately knitted in concern.

"What's wrong?" she inquired at the blank look on his face. Hs head was turned towards the direction of the living room where he looked on fixedly.

". . . Who is, Nathan?" he asked out the blue. Ororo frowned slightly, and thoughtfully repeated the name to herself, "Nathan? Oh!" she said suddenly, "Nathan. Dr. Dayspring. He is a colleague of mine. You met him that day you walked me to my car. He stopped to speak with us, remember? And he offered me a ride home after the incident at your bar. I work together with him and Dr. McCoy," she answered, taking two frosted cups out of her refrigerator. "Why do you ask?"

". . . De man jus' called. He lef' a message."

"Oh. Was it important?" she asked, stopping the microwave before it could beep and pullingt the hot bag of popcorn. The smell of fresh pizza and popcorn caused her stomach to rumble again, louder than before.

"He wan'ed y' t' go out wit' him dis evenin'."

Ororo poured the popcorn into a bowl and carried several items into the living room.

"Oh. That is all? Well, I'll call him back in a couple of minutes then."

"He's called t'ree times already," Remy expounded.

"Gee. I guess I should check my house messages more often. I only really pay attention to my cell anymore," she explained, coming back into the kitchen for more things to take in to the living room.

"If ya'll jus' colleagues how come he callin' t' ask y' out?" Remy asked with suspicion, his eyes narrowing with mild skepticism.

"Not to ask me out, Remy. Not that way. And well, ever since the thing with Jonathan he has been very nice about trying to be a friend to me. He tries to offer me opportunities to talk and discuss things, since I really do not have anyone here to talk to besides Kathryn. I suppose he feels he is being helpful," she said looking at him, "He was a bit concerned about me after that whole … fiasco. Unnecessarily so, I might add."

Remy nodded slightly, apparently satisfied with her explanation and gruffly cleared his throat.

"Make sure y' call an' tell him y' got betta plans fo' dis evenin' de spendin' it wit' him," he said. He began picking up several more items to join the ones she had already moved. When Ororo was alone in the kitchen, she laughed under her breath, shaking her head. It did not take a psychiatrist to see he was mildly jealous. Funny. She wouldn't think a man as sought after as he obviously was would be the type to feel jealousy—they hadn't even officially began seeing each other yet. Especially over Dr. Dayspring. Thanks to Remy, she could hardly think of anything else but him. She chuckled again at the thought before straightening her face and bringing the remainder of the food into the room.

* * *

"Oh goodness . . . how hot is Johnny Depp? I mean, really." Ororo sighed dramatically, dreamily as the movie credits rolled on in black and white. She glanced over her shoulder to Remy and laughed at the grim look on his face. He obviously did not share her feelings for him.

"Oh, dat's funny, chère?"

Ororo laughed harder, scooting closer, if possible, to the long Cajun who was nestled securely behind on her the floor, a bed of plush pillows walled around them adding extra comfort. He had long since discarded his shoes and duster. Half-empty bowls of chips and popcorn and several other food containers sat on the glass coffee table that had been pushed to the corner of the room by Remy, so that the two could have the center of the living area, where they lay together.

"It is kind of funny, yes. The look on your face . . ." she chortled.

"Sure it is. Wha' wit' y' femmes an' Johnny Depp anyway?" Remy asked, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"What's with men and Angelina Jolie? What's with men and Megan Fox and Halle Berry?" Ororo countered, rotating so that she faced him directly, her hand propping up her head as she leaned on her elbow.

"Touché," Remy mumbled in mutual surrender.

"What I thought," Ororo teased as she rolled her eyes playfully.

Remy positioned himself over Ororo, holding up his weight with his arms positioned on either side of her. "So, y' like ol' Johnny boy betta den, Remy, chérie?" His voice was low and deep as he cooed near her ear; a shudder ran through her as his breath breezed pass the shell of her ear.

Ororo looked up at the man above her, fighting against her desire and the pleased smile that was tugging at the sides of her mouth. She swallowed and licked her lips, Remy's eyes falling sharply on the action and back up again to her watchful eyes.

"Do you like those women I named better than me?" she challenged in return, her chin raising in defiance.

Remy chuckled, shaking his head, his dark hair falling down into his face. He held her eyes with his own, impaling her to the floor with his heavy gaze, and began descending on her slowly, prolonging the sweet terror. His skilled lips found hers as he branded her with his mouth. He shoved his impatient tongue between her lips, and lapped like a man dying of thirst, his kiss effectively disabling her.

Ororo's eyes fluttered shut as she sighed in deep pleasure, his heavy body increasing in pressure upon her, the feeling of him pressed on her rapturous. When he pulled back hesitantly, Ororo's eyes were still shut, and she panted quietly with hunger and need, her plump lips reddened and flushed. She whimpered lightly against her will.

"Wha' do y' t'ink, 'Roro? Does it look like Remy wan' dem femmes mo' den he wan' y'?" he whispered near her mouth, his tone teasing.

His reply was a hungry whimper by Ororo as she crushed her lips with his hard as both of them laughed and rolled over each other; kissing through a mix of playful wrestling and amused giggles.

At the end of the nearly three hour long sci-fi flick Ororo stretched along the floor like a cat, her shirt rising high on her flat belly, pants low enough to expose her hip bones, arms stretched high above her as she sighed, contented and happy. Remy never took his eyes off her, her beauty almost unrealistic; something dreamed up. Remy bent over and kissed her exposed stomach with a thief's quickness and Ororo laughed aloud loudly, dropping back to the carpet, as his lips had effectively tickled her sensitive skin.

She curled up laughing, eyes shut as Remy watched her with tender affection. She was just so beautiful, her wild and tussled locks spread all over the floor, her blue eyes twinkling with fun and merriment. The mocha chocolate of her skin in contrast to the white carpet under her made her look like a deliciously sweet mochaccino with whipped-cream on top. She looked so lovable to him, writhing on the ground, tickled by his tender kiss.

_Lovable?_

"Oh, Remy . . ." she breathed, even as her giggles began subsiding, "You're so much fun," she noted, wiping a tear of laughter from her cheek.

"An' yo' adorable," he said as he threw an arm across her and hugged her to him.

"Sure . . ." Ororo chuckled.

"Y' are!" he exclaimed. Ororo leaned in and kissed his nose, her loving fingers trailing through his hair over and over, smoothing it back affectionately; both sets of eyes watching the other.

"You know . . . you make me . . ." she paused as she sought the words to describe what and how he made her feel, ". . . you make me, I - I don't know. Wonderful and happy and light and . . . a whole bunch of other good adjectives." They laughed together. Remy was beginning to find out that Ororo could be quite silly, especially when she was happy. She was all natural and startlingly beautiful.

"I get so frazzled around you—in a good way," she added, "You throw me off. I actually asked you the other day if you had a brother, if though you've told me about him numerous times during our sessions together," she smiled, "You just - you really are something, Remy. You're fantastic," she piped. She grinned at him, white teeth on display for his express pleasure. She grabbed his right hand with both of her own and placed delicate thoughtful kisses in the middle of his opened palm—to each one his finger pads, closing her eyes upon each precious moment of contact she made with her lips. When she was done, she looked up at him and smiled, pulling his hands close to her chest, where he could feel her beating heart, her soft breasts resting temptingly against his hands.

Remy swallowed hard at her tender ministrations. She touched him with such thought, such care. Her ethereal blue eyes, rimmed by long dark lashes, shone with something he only saw when she looked at him. Her touch made a warm heat flood his body and pool to his throbbing loins. Her words and touch so smooth, like soothing ointment over a blistering wound.

"Remy?" Ororo whispered.

"Chère?" he managed through his fog, his emotions making his voice sound slightly strangled.

". . . I see you," she said laughingly. He laughed and flicked her nose lightly, "I knew we shouldn' 'ave watched "_Avatar"_," he grinned. Oh yeah, she could be quite silly indeed.

"I can't help it!" she laughed, jumping to her feet, "I feel so happy!" she gushed, her arms outstretched. At the word 'happy' a breeze rolled into the room, lifting her unexpectedly, as she began to ascend, twirling half a foot above the ground. "Oh my goodness," she exclaimed, looking down, "Remy!"

Remy sat up, watching in awe, his dark eyes wide in wonder. She was flying. In her living room. Thick white hair dancing wildly about her, blue eyes now the color of clouds.

"Mon Dieu."

She managed a little laugh, albeit a bit fearfully. She focused her attention on landing and the breeze immediately died down simultaneously; Ororo's dainty feet were once again level with the ground and her toes sank into the plush carpet.

"Remy, did you see that? Oh my God!" she told him, her hand across her mouth in surprise.

"Chère, how y' do dat?" Remy asked, just as surprised as Ororo.

"I - I do not know," she stammered, her expression one of happy confusion, "I have never done that before."

"Dat's de first time y' 'ave done dat?"

"Mm-hmm. I mean . . . I have created small breezes before, especially when I was younger, but never that," she explained, shaking her head disbelievingly.

"My . . . the powers . . . they seem to be connected to my emotions somehow," she said thoughtfully, "Like the day at your bar when I first found out about Jonathan's infidelity. I created a thunderstorm; it - it seemed to reflect the way I felt at that time. And then when we kissed in line at the carnival," she smiled coyly, looking up to catch his sly grin, "The electricity sparks. Now this," she shrugged idly.

"So . . . because y' felt happy earlier, y' started flyin'?" he queried, head quirked to the side in question.

"I suppose," she grinned, "I guess I haven' been . . . really happy enough for that to happen or … I don't know. I don't know how it works," she added soberly.

"An' when we kissed, y' created sparks?" he drawled tauntingly.

Ororo's eyes dropped as a shy smile crossed her face. "In my defense, it was quite a kiss."

"Oui. It was," he echoed.

Remy scooted close to her and wrapped his sleek arms around her tight. Ororo held him close, her face buried against the side of his neck. She breathed him in, inhaling and exhaling the sharp scent of his clothing and skin. The man was pure masculinity and enticing desire. His strong arms coiled around her waist, his lean body pressed into her own was so blissfully satisfying, she suddenly began to fear just how strong her want, her desire for him was becoming. Never would she have imagined that first day she saw him in her office, gorgeous and perfect, that she would be in the middle of her living room being held between his strong limbs.

What she felt was so surreal, so foreign to what she consider the norm for her, but she had never felt so good as she did right now. She felt unrestrained and carefree and she wanted to laugh aloud at how incredible it was. Ororo surrendered and flowed with the feeling—with her instincts as she gently placed a light kiss to the exposed tendon at his neck. Remy inhaled a sharp breath at the feel of her soft lips on his skin. Ororo smiled in triumph at his reaction, imploring her to repeat the action, this time with a slight nip at his vanilla skin. He was so delicious to her, the taste of him, the feel of him.

She proceeded to kiss his neck again, moving to the area under his chin, where Remy titled it upwards to give her better access. She pressed her lips and nose to the skin of his neck, inhaling and nipping it at the same time.

"Mmm . . . chère . . ." he sighed raggedly.

"Yes?" she rasped. Softly, demurely, her opened mouth planted on his neck.

" . . ."

"You're wonderful, Remy," she murmured softly, her voice a low whisper.

"Ahh . . . I am?" he managed distractedly, now thoroughly under her spell.

"Yes. You are."

Boldness came to her swiftly and she bravely trailed her heated tongue leisurely up his bobbing Adam's apple. Remy hissed at the sensation of her warm tongue on his throat, a low groan rising up from his chest, heat flooding directly to his groin.

At the sound, Ororo pulled back to look him in his eyes, still hidden by the dark contacts he wore. She met his gaze unflinchingly as she spoke her heart to him, "I- -" she swallowed nervously, "- -I want you, Remy," she continued, "and I - and I want to be with you. Can - do you accept this?" she asked insecurely, worrying her full bottom lip timidly, her eyes dropping.

The few silent seconds of Remy's unresponsiveness seemed like silent hours to Ororo whose heart was thundering in her chest cavity. The fear of his rejection gnawed at her, making her curse her foolish boldness. She had to retract it, apologize for her idiocy.

"Remy . . . I'm- -"

Her reticent words were halted by Remy's plundering lips over her own. She smiled instantly into the kiss as she allowed herself the pleasure of tasting him once more. He gripped at her with a certain possessiveness, his hands spreading warmth to every part they glided over, pulling her into his lap, where her legs curled around his trim waist. She gasped when one of his eager extremities brushed over an overly sensitive breast.

"Remy . . ." she expelled when he finally released her lips, but only to speak his peace, so there'd be no confusion, no doubt.

"I wan' y', 'Roro. I wan'ed y' from de first time I saw y'. I knew. I knew I had to have you; I knew I had to make y' mine. I jus' wan'ed y' t' kno' it too an' t' be sure," he confessed, pausing before catching her up into another kiss.

"Do y' 'Ro? Do y' kno' it now?" he muttered against her lips.

". . . Yes. I . . . do now," she mumbled into their kiss. She laughed with an endearingly girlish enthusiasm against his smirking lips, "Oh, how I do now . . ."


	26. Chapter 26

**- 26 -

* * *

**

He missed her.

He missed his white-haired beauty already even though he'd just seen her the day before.

_His woman_.

Inexpressible joy flooded his heart as he pondered those two simple words. Patience and perseverance were truly virtues, as both had expressively supplied Remy what he'd desperately desired since he'd first laid his obscure eyes on Ororo.

Thinking back to that day at her apartment, Remy could not help but feel that the doctor he had met at Valhalla Psychiatry months ago was not the sexy vixen who had left evidence of her love bites on his neck, the marks still showing true upon his skin. Remy thoughtfully fingered the marks, a smile as wide as the Mississippi curving his mouth.

"Damn . . ." he chuckled to himself as he viewed the deep reddish colorations in his bathroom mirror. Remy winced lightly as his bath sponge ran over the tender spots as he had been showering. After shutting off the stream of water and draping a towel around his waist, Remy had promptly wiped the steamy condensation away from the mirror over his sink and inspected the marks more closely.

"Mon Dieu."

Simply remembering the way it had felt as she eagerly feasted upon his neck made his temperature rise. Just what kind of woman did he have on his hands anyway? He'd be damned if he didn't find out, and not only that, but he meant to take great pleasure in doing so.

Good things come to those who wait, indeed. For a while there, it seemed as if dilemma after dilemma had beset Remy in his pursuit of her. Legitimately, the issue of him being her patient had been a difficult quandary, and Remy had empathized with Ororo's reluctance to cross that bold boundary at first. He could never give let up though. He knew he couldn't. As much as the woman had sought to deny the keen attraction between them at first, there was no way either of them could escape its hold. It grew intricately stronger with each passing day and refused to release them from its clutches.

The business with her ex-fiancé had been another matter. Another obstacle that seemingly had been thrown in their path. Remy wasn't sure he'd ever forget the bile and rage that had arose in him that day he had seen Jonathan kiss Ororo in front of the ignorant crowd of spectators, and worse than that, in front of him. He'd also never forget the raw vulnerability Ororo had displayed when he'd confronted her about it in his office. The tragic beauty with her diamond tears flowing freely down her sculpted face as she shook with the force of her sobbing, the rain outside mirroring the emotions of the very woman whose tears had flowed so unhindered.

The electric razor buzzed quietly as Remy ran it over his princely face, forgotten rust colored stubble falling insignificantly into the basin of the sink as he groomed himself skillfully. After a thorough inspection of his freshly shaven face, Remy winked at himself in the mirror, congratulating himself on being such a handsome bastard and walked into the adjoining bedroom where he began dressing.

Earlier, his father had called him and asked him to stop over and have a rare breakfast with him and Henri, whereon, after he was finished, would be off to the bar for a full day's work. As he pulled a shirt over his head, Remy winced at the dull soreness located on his neck, the site of Ororo's hungry bites. He laughed again as he clutched at his neck. The soreness was simultaneously a source of pleasure as well, and each time he felt the sting from the evidence of Ororo's passion Remy could also feel his arousal and desire begin to stir.

He wished Ororo could have joined him for breakfast with his father and brother. He wanted to see their reactions when he strolled in with Ororo, hand-in-hand so they could see firsthand just whom the beauty belonged to. He wanted to see Henri's look of shock when he finally saw who it was that Remy had had his eyes on these last few months. Of course, Henri had already seen Ororo, at that farce of an engagement celebration. However, he still didn't know that it had been Jonathan's fiancé, Ororo, in whom Remy shared an attraction.

Therefore, being that Ororo had to work this morning, Ororo had agreed to meet Remy at the bar at the end of her workday. Remy shook his head amusingly as he eyed the bite marks one last time, slowly fingering them, reminiscently so, before grabbing his keys off his dresser and heading out the door.

* * *

_~ Valhalla Psychiatry ~_

"Kathryn, when is my consultation with Victor Creed?" Ororo inquired over the line.

"Umm . . . next week. Thursday, 2 p.m." Kathryn confirmed.

"Alright, thank you, Kathryn. I appreciate it."

"No problem, Dr. Munroe."

Ororo rubbed her temples soothingly as she leaned back in her chair and inhaled a deep refreshing breath, exhaling it slowly in an attempt to find a semblance of peace and to deal with the full on stress of her day. She had already met with two different patients since coming in, and each one had been a colorful handful.

There had been Mr. Mortimer Toynbee, a highly delusional man who was under the false assumption that he had been a toad in his past life, and then there was Mr. Fred Dukes, a morbidly obese man, and self-professed emotional eater. He came to Ororo often, detailing his life-long war with food and the emotional baggage he carried from being mocked as a child for his obesity. It was quite an interesting sight watching him maneuver himself onto the couch provided, being that it was much too narrow for the man's extremely wide girth.

Ororo's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door, a dark head of hair peeking through the opening.

"Ororo," he smiled.

"Dr. Dayspring."

"Nathan," he corrected with a quirked smile.

"Right, Nathan. What can I do for you?"

He smiled coyly at her question. Ororo avert her gaze momentarily. He further allowed himself into the room and closed the door behind him, moving towards her, where he proceeded to sit himself on the edge of her desk.

"You never called me back the other day, you know. I left messages."

"Yes, I am so sorry," she apologized sincerely, "I had meant to as soon as soon as I realized you had called. I was occupied." A picture of her and Remy kissing and writhing on her floor flashed through her mind and she coughed to cover up the heated reaction it invoked.

"It's alright. All is forgiven," he placated, his large hands raised to show he held no ill will.

"Glad to hear it." He held her eyes for a moment; Ororo squirmed awkwardly under his stare.

"So, what are you doing for lunch today?"

Ororo looked at him. "Um, well. I just might skip lunch today and work through it," she lied.

At that moment, the door opened suddenly and Kathryn appear through it with a confirming smile, "Oh. Sorry, Dr. Munroe. Dr. Dayspring. Uh, Dr. Munroe, I just wanted to know if you were still having lunch with me later?"

She was stuck. Ororo groaned inwardly at Kathryn's imperfect timing. Nathan glanced at Ororo with a knowing smile and then glanced back at Kathryn, "Yes, she'll be joining you, Kathryn. She and I both will," he answered. Nathan turned and winked at Ororo, "I'll be seeing you ladies at lunch then." Ororo smiled tightly.

Kathryn moved aside for him as he left the room, leaving Ororo looking forlorn and thwarted.

"Quite a way to invite himself," Kathryn giggled as she stepped further into the room.

"Quite," Ororo repeated.

Kathryn paused before speaking. ". . . I, uh, hope you don't mind me asking, Dr. Munroe, but . . . do you have something going on with Dr. Dayspring?"

A surprised expression glinted across Ororo's face as she faltered briefly. "Just, Ororo, Kathryn—please. And no. Absolutely not in response to your latter question."

Kathryn laughed, shuffling the folders she held in her hands under her arm. "Well, it looks like he certainly would like to change that. Talk around the office is that he has the hots for you."

"Ha," Ororo exclaimed dryly. "Dr. Dayspring and I are only colleagues. With time, perhaps good friends, but that is all. I'm sure a man like him has no shortage of women seeking his attention."

Kathryn snorted. "Ain't that the truth? His has every woman around this place noses wide open."

Ororo laughed warmly at the visual picture she got from Kathryn's statement. "I bet he does," Ororo managed after one or two more chuckles.

Neither women spoke for a few seconds, but it was Kathryn who chirped up first, "Ororo, you - you really seem to be in good spirits, I'm glad to see it. I was a bit worried there, after the whole thing with your fiancé and all," Kathryn admitted soberly.

Ororo smiled reassuringly at her. "I am in good spirits, Kathryn. I, for one, do not believe anything is an accident, and the split with Jonathan was inevitable. It wasn't the first time we had split since we started dating each other and no matter how much I hoped I knew it wouldn't have been the last either. Better sooner than after we had married."

Ororo paused at her confession. That was the first time (in a long time) she could remember confiding in someone so freely. It felt good, the feeling of something deep and troublesome being lifted off your chest, and not having to deal with it all by her lonesome. A smile threatened to spill over unto her face. She wasn't alone anymore.

Kathryn nodded her understanding just as a sly look crossed her face. "Could it be Dr. Dayspring is too late and someone else has garnered the attention of our favorite psychiatrist?" Kathryn pried questioningly.

An involuntary smile—bright and wide—touched Ororo's mouth and her eyes sparkled brightly at the inquiry.

"Oh my gosh! Ororo, who?"

"What? I didn't say anything!" Ororo grinned.

Kathryn glanced impatiently at her watch. "Okay, be tight-lipped about it now, but at lunch time I want some details!" she demanded.

Ororo shook her head as she watched Kathryn scurry out. She had to get a grip on herself if her joy was showing that openly on her face. As she rose to look out her office window, she couldn't help but wonder if Remy had enjoyed the breakfast with his family this morning. She had wanted to be there as much as he had wanted her there, but she did feel a slight bit of relief that she had avoided it. It was mildly nerve-wracking thinking of meeting Remy's family; his father was the mayor! She never figured she'd be meeting his family so soon, but did think it certainly was sweet that he had made the offer.

It was amazing how different he made her feel already. Every once in awhile the old tendencies and uncertainties she had wrestled with would arise and she would begin berating herself for what she was doing, for what she had consented to. After she and Remy had agreed to be together, Ororo had decided that if they were to do this, she could no longer continue as his therapist. When she told Remy, he had readily agreed, completely understanding her position and was simply happy that the stubborn woman had finally given in.

Ororo tried to be pragmatic and realistic about seeing Remy and what she felt for him; reminding herself to sensible and not to become foolishly carried away with sentimentality and his devilish charm. Nevertheless, it was much harder said than done. He affected her in such a way that it made her want to be just a bit reckless. He had this unique ability to make her open up and when she did, attitudes and desires previously foreign to her would spill out unrestrainedly.

Ororo blushed as she remembered the way she had devoured his neck the other day and the telling marks that still marred his skin. She covered her hands with her face and shook her head at the memory, groaning aloud as she reminisced over how delicious he'd tasted, how freely she had branded him and how rapacious she had been for him.

* Beep *

"Dr. Munroe? Mr. Pietro Maximoff is here. Shall I send him down?" Kathryn's voice sounded over the speaker.

Ororo rushed over to her desk, compressing the button, "Sure. Thank you, Kathryn."

Pushing her personal affairs aside, Ororo produced the current patient's file and laid it out in front of her, switching to doctor mode. This one was her last session before lunch.

"It was good seeing you, son. You should check your old man more often, you know."

Remy rolled his eyes. He had heard this spiel before. "Père, please. Y' hardly have de time."

"Non," Jean-Luc said, shaking his head no, "Not so. I always have time for mon fils."

"D'accord, père." Remy hugged his father briefly, the tight, stiff way men do, so as not to seem too soft, "T'anks fo' breakfast."

"Anytime, son. You know that."

Remy grabbed his keys just as his father asked him, "So when does your pa get to met dis pretty little fille dat you told me about?" he asked as he began walking with Remy towards the stairs.

Remy smiled. "Whenever y' have did time, père. Whenever y' have de time. I woulda brought her wit' me t'day bu' she had t' work."

"I tell you what," Jean-Luc began, pursing his lips thoughtfully, "The governor is having a birthday celebration here in New Orleans in about three weeks time. Why don't you come? And bring the femme with you. I'll get the chance to meet her there, at least, if we can't arrange it sooner. But at least dis way, we have somet'ing definite."

Remy nodded slowly. That wasn't really his scene, but he replied nevertheless, "Hmm. Well, we'll see 'bout dat. I'll ask her t'ough and if she don' got no objections," he paused, his father's face expectant and hopeful.

_Damn it all. _

"… Den we'll be dere."

"Hey! Sounds great, son. Just great."

He nodded. "Well, I'm off." He began to descend the stone steps of the ornate veranda that they'd recently eaten on when his dad spoke again.

"Remy?"

"Sir?" Remy stopped, looking back at his father.

"She's not officially treating you anymore, right?"

"Non, père," Remy confirmed shaking his head.

"Alright. I'm not trying to be difficult, son. I just want you to be careful and to be sure of what you're doing," his father advised wisely.

Remy hung his head, nodding with understanding. "Remy kno' dat, père. 'Ro an' I discussed it. Remy would never do anyt'ing dat would put her or her job at risk," he vowed.

"I believe that. I- -" Jean-Luc laughed at his own ironic thoughts before continuing, "- -I never t'ought we'd send ya to a therapist to get you to talk and open up to someone professionally, then later on, find out you've started seeing her," he chuckled deeply, "Only you, son. Only you," he said, ruffling the hair of his oldest boy.

Both men laughed at the strangely truthful irony.

"Wha' can I say? I'm a LeBeau, non?" Remy grinned.

"Oui," his father stepped forward. patting Remy on his back, "that you are. I can see, you know. Little changes here and there," he paused, ". . . she's good for ya. That's what a good woman does for a man."

"Oui, I t'ank so. I kno' 'Ro's a good woman." Remy smiled, his tone so sure, so adamant that Jean-Luc couldn't help but grin and be happy for his son.

"You wanna take some of this home?" Jean-Luc asked, a gestured wave to the plethora of food still piled on the table, "I can have Silvia wrap some up for you."

"Non, non. I'm good."

He nodded. "In that case, I'll let ya go then. Where's your brother?" his father asked, his eyes darting around searchingly.

"Who knows?" Remy rolled his eyes. "Henri! C'mon! C'mon or get left!" he threatened loudly.

True to his word, Remy jogged down the steps and cut across the expansive lawn, straight in the direction of his parked car.

"Hey, Rem! Wait up! I'm coming!" Henri yelled, sprinting to catch up with his impatient older brother, "I'm here. I'm here," he said breathing harshly as he slowed to a normal pace, "Mon Dieu," he complained.

"Beggars can' be choosers, mon frère. Y' ride wit' me, den y' come when I'm ready."

Henri made a face behind Remy's back and jumped into the passenger seat just as Remy started the ignition.

"So," Henri began as Remy reversed out of the long driveway, "I've met dis fille before?" Henri asked in regards to Ororo.

Remy smirked. "Yup," he stated simply. It was fun keeping Henri guessing.

"Yup? That's it? No clues? No nothing?"

"What's wrong?" Remy laughed, "y'll see her later. An' I don' wan' y' droolin' when y' do," he teased.

"Please," he waved off Remy's words, "I may not be Mr. Cajun Casanova, but I do just fine with the femmes myself," Henri bragged as he unnecessarily popped his collar, a smug look on his face. He resembled Remy at that moment.

"Hmph. We'll see."

At lunch, Ororo shifted in her seat, fully aware of a pair of blue eyes searing her to the spot. It was as if he was willing her to look at him. How long was Kathryn going to take? Ororo kept casting glances in the direction of the restrooms hoping to see Kathryn emerge from them and break the awkward spell that fell over the two.

Not seeing what she hoped for, Ororo risked a glance up from her empty plate to Nathan who had cleverly chosen a seat directly in front of her. She glanced back down just as quickly when she noticed the intense look on his face, his eyes seemingly boring through her. She cleared her throat roughly and sipped on the glass of water, the water of which, felt wonderful running down her dry throat.

"Are you aright, Ororo?" There was a hint of a smile in his voice and when Ororo's eyes went to him she could she it was on his face as well.

"I am," she assured.

His smiled widened on one side.

"Have you been here before?" Ororo asked trying to lighten the mood and ignore Nathan's blatant staring.

"Yes," he answered, "and so have you."

Ororo looked confused.

"When you first came here. You and I ate here. Hank joined us later? Remember?"

"Ohhh, yes. Well, at least I do now," she laughed, embarrassed by her forgetfulness. "It feels like I hardly see Dr. McCoy anymore. Only sporadically around the office."

"Yeah. Hank is a very busy man. He doesn't solely make his livelihood as a psychiatrist. He works and studies psychology too. He has his doctorate in that field as well. I don't know all the details, but I know Henry's very interested in creating beneficial psychochemical drugs. I believe he is planning to draft a book on the subject."

"So he is not only a psychiatrist, but studies psychopharmacology as well?"

"Basically."

"Wow."

"Yeah," Nathan agreed laughing.

There was a comfortable lull in the conversation for a few minutes, that is, before Nathan made it uncomfortable again. "Did you have a good time, this past weekend?"

The question was vague and Ororo didn't know where it came from. Not understanding his angle, Ororo proceeded carefully, "Meaning?"

He shrugged. "I just figured you went out. You know, with someone. I mean - at least that's what I thought."

Ororo squinted at him warily. "I did have a good weekend, yes. A great weekend actually," she added, choosing her words carefully as she didn't understand where he was going with this.

Nathan's large smile eased into a polite grin as he nodded his head, swallowing hard.

". . . Then - then you . . . _**did **_go out with someone?" his voice sounded strained and he tapped his toes impatiently under the table, loud enough for Ororo to hear it over the chattering patrons of the café.

Ororo didn't answer right away. Why was he so concerned all of the sudden?

Seeing Ororo's reluctant apprehension, he began backpedaling, "I ask only because . . . I told you that day in the break room that I wanted you to feel comfortable about talking to me—about anything, really. The way a friend would," he clarified further, "You concern me, that's all. You don't have to if - if that bothers you."

"No, its not that, Nathan," she sighed, "Thank you, I appreciate the invitation for an open ear," she smiled softly, lightening up a bit.

What the hell. This is what she had done earlier, right? Opened up? … shared herself?

"I did," he answered finally, "I did spend the weekend with someone, and yes we did have fun." She stared off into the distance as she thought about Remy: their kissing, his neck . . .

A secretive smile appeared on her face she did not even know was there, holding her chin up with an elbow propped up on the table, the smile still there.

Had Ororo not seen turned to Kathryn and wave her over, she would have seen the reddening of Nathan's face and the tight set of his jaw.

"Sorry guys," Kathryn apologized, approaching the table, "I was talking to Piotr."

Just as Kathryn returned to her seat, Nathan stood up so fast his chair scrapped the concrete.

"Nathan?" Kathryn looked at him perplexedly.

"I must leave," Nathan grumbled, reaching into his pocket to pull out his wallet and take out a crisp twenty dollar bill and toss it on the table.

"For the tip. You ladies will be fine, won't you?" he asked, never meeting their curious eyes.

"Sure. We'll be fine, Nathan, but- -"

"- -I will see you ladies later," he cut across. He waved briefly before making a hasty exit, both women staring after him baffled.

"Something happen while I was gone?" Kathryn asked, her face scrunched in confusion.

"Not really. I don't know," Ororo shrugged at a loss.

"Well, while I don't understand what just happened a moment ago, there are more pressing matters at hand right?" Kathryn grinned.

"Like?" Ororo replied, not taking the lure.

"Now, now, Ororo. Do tell."

"Kathryn, are you certain the 'P - r - y' in your last name isn't for 'pry' and not 'Pryde'."

"Ooh, that was good, Ororo. This guy has you making witty jokes now. It's settled, now I _**must **_know."

"Kat, you know I am not the type to- -"

The eager expectation on Kathryn's pretty face made Ororo put her hand over her mouth and laugh. "You'd never believe it," Ororo cautioned as she paused to thank the waitress who had just brought them their food.

"Try me," Kathryn whispered challengingly.

* * *

Remy glanced at his watch as he shelved the glasses he had previously wiped down. His eyes went from the glass in his hand, to his watch, to the entrance, in that order for twenty minutes now. The work might have gone faster, had he not being watching the door, but he was expecting Ororo any moment now.

Henri breezed past him, several bottles in hand as he began restocking the bar.

"Logan not comin' tonight?" Henri asked.

"Huh?" Remy replied distractedly, eyes fixed on the door.

"Logan. He usually hangs out in here after hours."

"Oh. Yeah. Non, he's workin' tonight."

Glancing back at his brother and following the trajectory of his eyes, Henri snickered under his breath.

"She _**is **_comin' right?"

"O' course she'll be here," Remy answered, a bit annoyed with Henri, "Right after work."

"Workin'? Yo' sure 'bout that? She ain't two-timing ya already is she?" Henri teased.

"Henri . . ." Remy warned through clenched teeth.

The door opened suddenly, Ororo coming through them as both men turned towards the new occupant, one smiling, the other's mouth dropping.

"'Ro," Remy greeted, hurriedly coming around the side of the bar and scooping up Ororo for a hug and subsequent kiss.

Henri watched in surprise as she looked on at his brother kissing the woman who had just gotten engaged at this very spot several weeks ago. What had the guy's name been? James Rainbow or something or the other?

Ororo smiled under the pressure of Remy's lips as he finally saw fit to release her.

"Quite a greeting, Remy," Ororo smiled, pecking his cheek.

"Remy's been waitin' on y', chere," he sighed exasperatingly.

"I apologize. I came as soon as I could."

Remy looked at her, her eyes were bright and she seemed happy, but he could tell she was tired and had probably had a lot on her plate today. "S' okay chère, no worries."

Ororo smiled as her eyes fell on Henri. "Remy … is that your brother?" She nodded in Henri's direction.

"Oui, dis is Henri."

Ororo walked towards him, the clicking of her heels muffled by the carpet as Henri met her the rest of the way.

"Hi! It's great to meet you. I'm, Ororo," she stretched her hand out to shake his but was met with a firm hug instead.

"Ah, we're practically family, chère. Handshakes are fo' strangers."

"O - oh," Ororo laughed nervously, "Well . . . thank you."

She patted him awkwardly on the back as the hug went on much longer than a casual hug between two people who had practically just met should.

"A'right, Henri. She got it," Remy chuckled.

"Oh. Right." Henri loosened his hold, but not completely and Ororo had to pull back to be completely free of the hug.

"We've met before, chère. No?"

Remy looked at Ororo, seeing if she was affected by the question at all. The reminder of her not-so-pleasant engagement party holding the potential for an uncomfortably awkward situation.

"Not directly, no. My ex-fiancé did plan a surprise engagement celebration here though."

If Ororo was upset over the question she didn't show it. She answered politely, and grinned. Completely unaffected by the innocent question.

"Right. Ex-fiancé, um, James. James Rainbow."

Ororo laughed with a shake of her hoary head, Remy rolled his eyes. "Jonathan. Jonathan Raincloud," she corrected.

"Oh yeah!" Henri ran a hand through his dark hair. "Well," he began tactlessly, "it's a good thing ya'll didn't get married. I mean, Ororo's a pretty name, but 'Raincloud' at the end of it . . . nah, kinda ruins it, non?"

Ororo smiled at him amused at his helpless sense of humor. "I suppose Ororo Raincloud would be a quirky name," Ororo agreed.

"Yeah," Henri continued, "but Ororo LeBeau … yeah, that sounds nice. It even rhymes, now that's a match. Mr. and Mrs. Henri LeBeau. Rings a bell."

Ororo laughed loudly at the sly joke as Henri looked on, seemingly proud of himself. Remy rolled his eyes for the second time as he watched Ororo's shoulders shake with laughter.

"In yo' dreams, mon ami."

"Looks like ya'll are havin' fun."

The three turned at the sound of a new female voice, all sets of eyes falling on a pretty blonde who looked amused at seeing them. Ororo's laughter died as she watched the new entry's eyes go from Remy to her and back to Remy.

"Henri, this a friend of yours?" Bella asked, a pointed look on Ororo.

He sighed disappointingly in jest, "Non, unfortunately not. Once again, Remy proves to be the lucky bastard in the family. This here is his girl."

"Ororo. Her name's, Ororo," Remy expounded, going over to Ororo and coiling an arm around her waist, drawing her into him.

"Is that so?"

Bella glanced at Ororo. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners? My name is Belladonna. I waitress here." She extended a hand.

Ororo took the proffered hand, "Pleased to meet you, and yes, as Remy has already stated, I am Ororo."

Bella quickly dropped Ororo's hand and peeked over at Remy who looked at her with a silent warning in his dark eyes.

"Did y' need somet'ing, Bella?" Remy asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Oh, um. I just stopped by to see when ya'll were gonna have the new schedule up, but since ya'll are busy I guess I can check back later."

"Well- -" Henri started but was interrupted by Remy.

"Sounds good. We'll let y' kno'. G'night."

All three persons turned to look at Remy, who seemed unaffected by the confused stares.

"Right. Good night then," Bella smiled tightly, looking at Ororo once more before turning and opening the door, "Nice meetin' you, Ororo. It's always a pleasure to meet one of Remy's girls."

Ororo blinked rapidly as the door closed behind the grinning blonde, the snide jab not going unnoticed by anyone. Remy sighed and cursed under his breath, gritting his teeth angrily.

Ororo cleared her throat, breaking the silent tension, "Well, Henri, it was nice seeing you again. I had heard so much about you and I'm glad we finally had the opportunity to meet properly."

"Sure thing, chère." Henri winked with a quick nod.

Ororo turned towards Remy, "Remy, I'll- -"

"'Can I talk t' y' fo' a second?" Taking her hand, Remy began pulling her towards the back before she could reply.

"Re- -"

"T'anks. Henri, I'll be right back."

"Okay, brother," Henri saluted, bottles clinking against each other as he went back to his job of stocking the bar.

Remy drug Ororo towards the back, through the doors of the same office he'd taken her before after her public kiss with Jonathan where he'd confronted her. She recognized it as such immediately.

"Before you begin, Remy, I just want to say that I am not angry nor am I upset," Ororo started in first, before he had the chance to apologize.

Remy sighed and rubbed his face. "Remy's sorry 'bout dat, chère. She was rude an' she- - "

"Is an ex-girlfriend?" Ororo surmised correctly.

Remy looked at her puzzled. She was good. That hadn't even been what he was going to say, but she'd picked up on it anyway.

Seeing the look on his face, Ororo clarified for him, "You do not need to be a psychiatrist to see the fiery darts she was shooting my way with her eyes," she joked good-naturedly, "You do not need to apologize for that. Or her." She smiled at him reassuringly.

The girl, it wasn't the one he called 'Anna', Ororo was sure of this, this was another one. And deducing from Bella's snide comment, there had been many.

Remy smiled back at her, stepping closer to brush his hand across her cheek. "Y' are so beau'iful, chère. Y' kno' that?"

"I know that you are, Remy," she reversed, covering his hand on her face with her own and turning in to kiss it affectionately.

Remy swallowed, her words affecting him in that tender heart-wrenching way she had the ability to. He kissed her slowly, holding her close as her words warmed his heart.

When he'd released her lips, Ororo tried her best to smother a yawn and turned away slightly so as to not yawn directly in his face.

"Tired, ma belle?" Remy intoned knowingly, brushing several strands of white hair from her face. It was down and loose, just like he had asked her to wear it. He kissed her forehead.

"Sadly yes. Today was kind of hard on me."

"Y' wan' Remy t' take y' home?" he asked, seeking her eyes, "Henri could drive my car an' pick me up afterwards."

"No, Remy. You do not have to do that. I am fine to drive home."

"'Ro, I wan' to. I'm yo' man an' I wan' t' take y' home."

His tone was gentle but firm and Ororo blushed a little, secretly delighted to have someone want to take care of her in such a way. But she wasn't used to such sentiments and inside she was a bit uncomfortable with the emotional unfamiliarity of it. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, or delve further into her 'intimacy' issues tonight, she selflessly relinquished.

"Remy, are you certain?" she made sure, biting her lip. The action making Remy want to press her against the wall and capture those lips and . . . well. He staved off such thoughts.

"O' course. C'mon, ma chère. Let's go."


	27. Chapter 27

**- 27 -

* * *

**

Ororo awoke precisely the same time she did every morning. At least, when she had to go to work. She was still in her bed though, still under the covers as the morning light began creeping through the closed shades on her windows. Her condominium was decorated in dark colors mostly, including her bedroom, but the curtains were not drawn, as they usually were, which allowed the light to seep through and stream down on her face. Ororo turned from it with a sigh, laying her head on an outstretched arm as she mentally detailed all she had to do today. A shy smile made its way across her face as she recalled … she was not alone in her home this morning. Remy lay sleeping in the guest room across the hall from her room.

It was his charisma. She blamed it on his charisma. He could ask or suggest anything he wanted to her and no matter how adamantly she refused, no matter how much she thought better of it, inevitably, he would have his way. It had worked that way last night when he had taken her home.

Ororo bit her lip, debating whether or not to steal in and peek at him.

_Why not start the morning off right?_

Feeling justified with her reason, Ororo decided on going in and stealing that peek. She flung back her covers and slipped into a pair of gray flannel bottoms. Opening her door, Ororo tiptoed the short distance across the hall to the guest room and pressed her ear against it, listening for any sound that he was awake yet; she did not want him to catch her after all. Hearing nothing out of the ordinary, Ororo bit her lip again as she soundlessly eased opened the door as quickly as possible and closed it softly behind her. Once in, she turned slowly, seeing the large lump in the bed, rising and falling steadily under the thin spread. The quietness of early morning allowed her to hear the faint sounds of his deep, rhythmic breathing.

She didn't move, just stilled and listened to it awhile, her head quirked to the side inquisitively as she studied him from the distance. Jonathan had never spent a night under her roof, nor she his and it was strangely comforting and satisfying watching and knowing a man was sleeping soundly within the confines of her home. It was almost … domestic in a sense. Ororo finally sauntered to the side opposite where his ruffled head of hair was turned. If he shifted at all, she would not be in his direct line of vision. Tiptoeing once more, Ororo positioned herself so she stood directly over him, looking down on him with tender eyes.

Her heart skipped at the sight. He was beautiful. Russet hair tangled and mussed, face littered with coarse stubble, and his eyelashes lying against his cheeks. She fought the urge to touch him, to bend down and kiss his toned back exposed by the covers wrapped low around his waist. She glanced to the chair across from the bed and saw the clothes he had worn last night thrown haphazardly across its arms.

_Then what was he sleeping in? Only his underwear? _

She mentally scolded herself as the thought to lift the spread and confirm her suspicions crossed her thoughts. The woman was becoming more corrupted everyday; again, Ororo blamed Remy. She could not find it within herself to behave ordinarily when he was around. Watching him with soft blue eyes, Ororo smiled down at him. Knowing she would stare at him forever and be late for work if she did, Ororo reluctantly tore her gaze away from the gorgeous man in her guest bed and made to exit when someone reached out and grabbed her hand unexpectedly.

"Hmm, like wha' y' see, chère?"

His voice was gruff with sleep but characteristically playful. Ororo laughed once she got past her shock, turning into mild embarrassment. He pulled just hard enough on her arm to cause her to gasp and fall on top of him clumsily. Remy secured his arms around her waist tightly before she could move away.

He grinned impishly at her. Ororo looked down at their entangled bodies and blushed hard. He felt so good underneath her, his body fit and hard, his strong arms furled around her waist. His contacts were gone, obviously removed for sleep and the thought came to Ororo that he certainly was wonderfully handsome in the early morning.

"Mmm . . . Wha' a great way t' start off de mornin', non?" he winked.

"That was what I thought when I decided to come in here and check on you," Ororo laughed. He smiled at her knowingly, seemingly pleased that she had thought so. Ororo's smiled faded. "I - I mean - I just - well I wanted—"

"S' okay, petite. I kno' y' couldn' resist seein' Remy in de buff."

". . . What!" Her eyes grew wide. "You're naked under there?" Remy chuckled deep and heartily at Ororo's wide-eyed expression as she looked down at their overlapping bodies again. "Oui, wanna see?" he offered. Ororo's eyes grew even wider if possible and her mouth hung open in shock. "I'm jus' kiddin', 'Ro. Remy's got boxers on," he confessed ruefully.

"Ugh, you scoundrel!" Remy laughed harder as she indignantly struggled to free herself from his grasp. "Huh uh. No. C'mon, chère. Stay wit' Remy," he pleaded. She stopped her struggling long enough to give him a mildly suspicious look. Upon seeing it, Remy pecked her lips in a gesture of appeasement. Her eyes narrowed on him. "You think your slick, don't you?"

"None, course not," he feigned innocently, a wide grin on his face. "Yeah, right. Well as much as I would love to play this game with you, I have to be getting ready for work and I still have not showered or eaten breakfast."

"Noooo, 'Roro."

She laughed at the sounds of his childish wining and shook her head at him. "Yessss, Remy," she mimicked playfully, tugging at the resisting arms still firmly curled around her. His face lit up suddenly, as if a revelatory idea had just come to him. "How 'bout y' don' go into work t'day," he propositioned, "y' can stay home wit' me."

Ororo shook her head at him again. This time, a small smile curving her lips. "Sounds wonderful, Remy … but I can't."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"Because I have work."

"Aw, chère," he protested with a groan. He paused, thinking about it for a moment, then with a mischievous grin, he rolled quickly, effectively flipping her over so that they reversed positions; he on top, she on the bottom. Ororo let out a surprised gasp just as his lips crashed down on her, kissing her full on the mouth. His plan, she knew; he was trying to make it difficult for her to say no. Very difficult … and it was working. The playful kiss the two shared surreptitiously began to become something more just as Ororo felt Remy's warm hands trailing down the smooth skin of her stomach and up higher under her shirt.

She moaned softly at the feeling, running her hands down his smooth back in return. The gesture inadvertently propelled Remy to deepen the kiss, as he proceeded to raise his seeking hands even higher up her shirt in a play for her chest. But the cell phone ringing across the hall in her room, however, cut through their lusty haze just as Ororo broke the kiss, dazed and flushed, her eyes glazed over with passion. She made to move out from under him just as he grabbed her hands and forced her back down unto the bed.

"No, don' get dat, chère," he breathed heavily into her ear. He turned his head to kiss the throbbing pulse point of her throat. ". . . Remy . . . I - I have to," she murmured as he took her lips again, easily falling back into it. The blissfully disregarded phone abruptly ceased its incessant ringing as the call ended.

"See?" he smiled, as he bit gently at her chin. But apparently speaking too soon, the phone began ringing once again, and Ororo knew she had to answer it this time. "Remy… I have to," she protested weakly.

He growled with frustration.

Remy pecked her lips once more before relenting and rolling over to the side.

Ororo rose, quickly pulling down her shirt as Remy sat up to watch her with a raw glow in his eyes and an amused smile on his face. Sprinting across the hall and bursting through the door, Ororo found the phone on her beside table and answered it on the fifth ring.

"Ororo, here." She was flushed and out of breath, raking her hands through her wild hair as she breathed heavily into the phone. Her skin still tingled, the virulent after effects of Remy's touch.

"Ororo? Are you alright?"

"Kathryn! Oh - yeah I'm okay."

"Just get finished jogging or . . .?"

"Um - no."

"Oh. But you sound of out breath."

"Yeah . . ."

". . . "

She cleared her throat over the awkward pause. "Did you need me to come in early or . . . ?"

"Oh, no. Actually, that is what I'm calling about. Ms. Isikiwa called and cancelled her appointment for this morning. You don't have anything else scheduled until 3 this afternoon," Kathryn informed.

"Ohhh, okay. Well thanks for that, Kathryn, but I'll still probably come in though so—"

"No! Don't do that, Ororo! You come in early all the time! You have work completed for up to like four months in advance!" Kathryn chided.

"Yeah," Ororo admitted, a bit begrudgingly, "I guess I get a little carried away sometimes."

"Yeah, just a little," Kathryn agreed with a laugh.

"Alright, alright," she conceded, "I'll be in later then."

"Sounds good. Be sure to tell Mr. LeBeau I said, 'hello'."

Ororo's face fell, mouth-dropping open. "What?"

"Oh come on, Ororo. He's obviously the reason you were panting in my ear when you first picked up the phone—not to mention why you didn't answer your phone the first time I called …" Kathryn quipped with a kind of insider's knowledge.

"I - that's not—"

"Hey, it's cool, Ororo. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It's good for you. "Ororo could hear the smile in her voice as a form of encouragement.

"I—," she began mumbling.

"I'll see you later, Ororo," Kathryn cheered teasingly into the phone, "Bah-bye."

The dial tone sounded in Ororo's ear and she looked at the phone with disbelief and surprise. She placed it back on the stand slowly and ran her hand over her face. Kathryn's statement had put it all into perspective for her. What she had been about to do had her phone not rung. She shivered at the thought. It was almost frightening the power he wielded over her. Whenever he touched her, whenever he kissed her, it seemed she'd lose all her faculties and her ability to think rationally, logically. Something would stir in her whenever she was with him, something that had been inactive and dormant for a long time.

But she liked it.

Afraid? Yes. Nervous? Yes. Apprehensive? Definitely.

Nevertheless, she liked it. Moreover, she liked him. Her mouth quirked up into a tiny grin of realization. Her head snapped up when she heard the small knocks on her door just as she heard him call her.

"'Ro?"

"It's alright, Remy. Come in."

She watched him as he appeared through the opened door. His eyes roaming her room, observing every nook and cranny of her abode before his eyes finally fell on her pleasant countenance.

"It's nice," he complimented as he made his way towards her.

"Thank you."

He eyed her for a few silent moments before asking. "So. Was it anyt'ing impo'tant?" he asked in reference to the phone call that had so rudely interrupted them both.

_It sure as hell had better been important. _

She shook her head no. "Just Kathryn informing me that I don't have to be in until 3 this afternoon."

His face lit up.

"Well whaddya kno'." She stood and faced him. "I still have to go in later though," she added, shooting down his jovialness some. He wrapped his arms around her, slowly pulling her to him. "Y' nevah kno', chère. A lot of t'ings can happen as de hours dwindle 'way. T'ings dat might convince y' t' stay, non?" he intoned, tilting his head questioningly.

His voice deepened, sending shivers up Ororo's spine. As if to soothe them, Remy ran his hands down, low on her back, easily traveling even further down. With a sly smirk, he made a quick grab at her rear causing Ororo to jump and gasp with surprise. He caught her lips before she could protest his salacious actions and pulled her flush against him. Ororo sighed as his tongue found hers, and in turn, willfully snaked her hands into his hair, pulling him closer.

Unthinkingly, Remy's hand found the back of her right knee and yanked it towards him, pulling it high up on his hip. "Oh . . ." Ororo gasped. Remy smiled under her lips as he stumbled with her back onto the bed situated directly behind them, both of them falling unto the pliable surface into a sea of rumpled sheets and covers.

She drew away just enough to breathe as his lips found her neck again, making their way to her chest. He inhaled at her neck. "Mmm, y' smell so good, 'Roro." He moved back up; just close enough to taste her lips one more time. He flicked his tongue over her bottom lip. Slowly.

"An' y' taste ev'n better," he chuckled lowly.

"Remy . . . " was all she managed as heat began surging throughout her body. She had never been with someone who said things like that to her, who kissed and touched her the way he was now. He was so gorgeous and sexy; she was almost scared she wouldn't know what to with him. He was so easily intimate, as if it were all natural to him. She couldn't say the same for herself. She had never been in a situation to experience something like it before. Not until Remy, though, being with him - in moments like these - made her want to. To act in the way with him that he did with her. So he'd know just how much she loved being with him.

In an attempt not to overanalyze it and just flow with these strange new feelings, Ororo instinctually pulled Remy's head closer to her as she attempted to dominate the kiss, lapping and licking until he she heard him respond with a low groan in his throat. She smiled when she heard it.

"Oh? You like that?" she whispered teasingly, her lips still touching his.

"'Ro . . ."

Her hand found his hard abs, deliberately trailing her hand down until she met resistance at the waistband of his boxer shorts.

She couldn't believe what she was doing, but she was so turned on by him, so in the moment. All she knew was she wanted to be here. With him.

Remy kissed her hard when he felt her touch. She was so damn beautiful laying there beneath him, her eyes glistening with what he was certain was want and it turned him on that it was he that had put it there.

He stopped just long enough to ask her however, just long enough for him to know that she was sure. The cessation of his movements caused Ororo up to look at him with confusion-filled eyes, her smile slowly fading from her face.

"What is wrong?" Did - did I do something wrong?"

She was worried; her tone evidenced it.

"Oh no, chère. Not'ing like dat," he clarified quickly. That wasn't the impression he had meant to give her.

"Then . . . what? If I—"

"Chère. I just - I mean, I jus' wan' t'—"

Her phone buzzed again; the third time that morning. Ororo turned her head to look at it, vibrating, and ringing as the screen lit up. Remy dropped his head, falling over to the side so that she could get up to answer it. He rubbed his head roughly in frustration.

"Merde . . ." he grumbled under his breath.

Ororo grabbed it quickly and looked at the screen. The number was unfamiliar and did not come up as one of her contacts. She pressed the button.

"Hello?"

"Ororo?"

"Yes, this is she," she began. The voice wasn't recognizable.

"Hey! It's Nathan."

Ororo was silent. Beside her, Remy shifted—righting himself.

"O - oh. Uh, good morning," she tried naturally.

"Good morning to you too."

Nathan's voice was chipper; Remy could hear it vaguely over the phone. His brows creased as he looked on and listened.

"Thanks . . ."

"Say Ororo . . . do you want to have breakfast with me this morning?"

"Uh . . . huh?" Ororo asked wildly. Where'd that come from?

"Kathryn told me you didn't have to be in this morning and well, I don't have a morning appointment either, so I thought that I'd come scoop you up and we could go get some breakfast."

Ororo's eyes shot over to Remy who stared back at her with hardened curiosity in his eyes.

"Um, that is nice of you," she swallowed, glancing at Remy once more, "but I can't. I'm sorry."

There was a few moments silence on the other end. However, when he spoke again, his voice sounded hard, bitter.

"May I ask why?" he demanded.

"Well . . . I—"

"And don't lie to me, Ororo."

Ororo froze, shocked by the tone and implication in his voice. He had never spoken that way to her before.

"Is some one with you?" he pressed further.

"Nathan, I'm sorry but that is really none of your concern," she countered firmly, finding her voice. What was the deal?

"Now excuse me, but I have many things calling my attention. I will see you at the office this afternoon. Thank you and goodbye."

Ororo promptly ended the call just as Remy rounded on her.

"Dat was Nathan? De guy dat called an' lef' all dose mess'ges on yo' phone de other day?"

She nodded her answer warily. "Yes."

Remy scoffed and stood.

"What?" Ororo asked, following suit.

"Is dis' like a regular t'ing 'tween y' two or somet'ing?" he inquired. His tone was neutral and he did not sound upset, but his question still held a slight hint of accusation, even suspicion. Ororo meant to squelch it immediately.

"Never. Of course not," Ororo tried, "that is not the case, Remy. At all."

Remy watched her thoughtfully. He shook his head and exhaled a breath. "Well . . ." he began, carefully selecting his words, "does de man like y' or somet'ing?"

Ororo opened her mouth to reply, but the words died as she truly thought on it, her mouth slowly shutting close. She silently pondered it a moment or two. She reflected back on some of her and Nathan's previous conversations, the way he seemed to constantly walk pass her office without fail, the messages he'd left her the other day, inviting himself to lunch with her and Kathryn, the persistent questions he'd asked about her personal time, if she was spending it with someone.

"Well I … I mean I guess it's possible," she said after a few moments conclusion. "I would have said no before but … I don't know. I cannot be sure."

Remy gazed at her. There she was, fresh-faced and gorgeous in plain ol' PJs, her hair an unruly mess and still … she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was naïve and obviously not learned when it came to relationships, even men to a certain degree. He hadn't even needed to ask really. Of course, the guy liked her. What man would be able to take his eyes off of her?

Remy had watched her, thinking it all through, the expressions that flitted across her face, the knitting of her eyebrows, the slight frown to her lips, the truth in her tone. Did she not know how divine she was?

His mouth twisted into a smile as he watched her hopeful face, the sincerity in her expression and immediately he was disarmed. The brief moment of uncertainty and suspicion was erased by the look of hope and guilelessness displayed across her smooth features. He smiled softly at her and slowly pulled her into his arms, brushing his hands through her hair comfortingly.

"I believe y', chère. Remy didn' mean t' sound like he was accusin' y', I jus . . ." he paused.

He just what? Well for starters, he didn't want to admit it but, ever since he and Anna had broken up, he found it harder to trust people … and the things they said. His experiences with her had tainted him in some regards and situations like these just brought those issues to the forefront.

But it was a new day. He was with Ororo now. Since both of them had finally given in to the mutual attraction between them, nothing had been the way it was. Remy LeBeau, the fearless flirt, charming any woman he so chose, had encountered every type of situation, every little nuisance of dating, of being in a relationship with someone. Yet, with Ororo, it all felt exciting and new.

He didn't want to lose that. He'd be _**mad **_to lose that. Especially over some tainted past experiences.

"Not'ing," he finished with an offhanded shake of his head. "But dis homme … does he kno' y' got a man?"

Ororo smiled at that. It was still so strange, Remy being her 'man'. Though, she wouldn't have it any other way.

"No," she answered, tucking a wayward strand of his hair behind his ear. "But if anything like this happens again him, I'll be sure to 'tactfully' mention to him that I'm seeing someone and leave it at that. Somehow, I do not think he'll be crushed, Nathan is an attractive man and he's successful. He has all the women at the office noses' wide opened," she said, borrowing a line from Kathryn.

"But not y', eh? Y' already got an attractive, successful man, non?" he said, kissing her lips.

She giggled into their kiss. "That I do . . ." she kissed him back, brushing his hair with her fingers. She smiled, placing her lips to his ear and intoned quietly.

". . . and Remy?

"Oui?" he said softly, still holding her. She smiled against his ear.

". . . I couldn't be more satisfied."

* * *

Normally Remy would have been beyond frustrated and upset at having been interrupted before tasting and discovering all the fullness of what was Ororo's immense treasures. Before he had the chance to mold his body with her own and listen contentedly while she emanated moan after moan of pleasure.

But he knew Ororo's treasures didn't end solely with her perfect physicality and the promise of sensual pleasure. He was reminded of that every time she opened her mouth and those full, plump lips spoke tender words that unwaveringly found their target directly at his heart.

Remy was very familiar with the feeling of arousal and attraction towards a beautiful woman. He was familiar with the joy and happiness of being in a relationship with said woman brought, but mostly—he was just familiar with anything remotely resembling sexuality. The sight of full breasts, endless legs, and a pretty face were things that made his heart beat faster, not unlike any other man. But with Ororo, it was more than that.

So much more.

He had stronger emotional reactions every time Ororo would utter those endearing words of hers than he had seeing Anna fully naked (and overly eager) sprawled wantonly across his bed.

So he watched her. Watched and studied her. Every moment.

The way her mouth moved when she had sat down and ate breakfast with him. The way those sapphires of hers sparkled when he made her laugh. The way her hips moved as she excused herself for a shower. Unfortunately, that was where the watching had stopped much to his disappointment. But he had learned something in all the watching he'd done.

She was astoundingly beautiful.

And not just physically, but everything about her. It all combined and intertwined to make one large beautiful package named Ororo.

"Hey, Remy?" He turned towards the sound of her voice and found her head peeking through a crack in her bedroom door, strands of recently washed, white hair dropping into her face. Unfortunately, that was all he saw.

"Chère?"

"Did you know the guest room had a bathroom adjoining it?"

He shook his head. "Didn' notice, chère. T'ought maybe it was a door t' a closet," he shrugged.

She smiled. "No, it's a small bathroom. You can use it if you'd like. There are towels on a rack in there, and toothbrushes and other toiletries in the cabinet. And—if you don't mind wearing them—I have a pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt I can give you, and don't worry . . ." she grinned. "There men's."

Remy chuckled. "No, I don' mind. T'anks, chérie."

"I'll lay them out on the bed for you. Be out in a minute."

He was still smiling at her when she closed the door, shaking his head as he made his way to the other room and prepared for a shower. It was a shame they couldn't share one, finish what'd they'd started earlier.

_A real shame._

* * *

The rest of their afternoon was spent back on that same white carpet, watching television amid much laughing and hard stolen kisses. When the moments had mellowed down a bit, Ororo told him stories about growing up with her surrogate father, Charles, and even some of the weird instances she'd had with her fledging powers growing up. Her face lit up whenever she talked of her father and a friend of hers named Jean, who apparently stilled lived in Baltimore. Over the course of a few hours, Remy had been told about how it was for her going to school, how successful she had been academically and how nervous she was when she first went off to med-school. She didn't really go into detail about her life before coming to the States though, only that her parents had died in an accident, she was much quieter after that.

Remy listened with unwavering fascination through it all. He'd remembered a time when it seemed like Ororo didn't want to say two words to him, or anybody for that matter. Before they had gotten together. But now he watched her as she laughed and giggled and blushed and cringed as she detailed various life experiences: embarrassing ones, funny ones, and as with her parents - even unfortunate ones. What mattered most to him though, was that she was sharing herself with him. No one else, just him.

Her laughter died when she caught a glance of the clock on the wall. She jumped up. "Well," she sighed, "I suppose I should get ready. It will be time for me to head out soon."

Remy nodded slowly. From the look on Ororo's face, she didn't like it much either. She waited a moment, biting her lip. Remy eyes flickered up to her and she smiled softly at him before moving in the direction of her room, the door closing softly behind her.

He sighed once more before standing to his feet and heading towards the guest room to pick up his clothes, and call Henri to pick him up. Clothes collected, call made, Remy sat on the sofa waiting for her Ororo to come out so he could say goodbye before she left.

When she did come out, she was dressed in a black and white pinstriped suit. The pencil skirt fitting close against her long smooth legs. Her mass of her hair was swept up into a large bun, making Remy long for the way she wore it out and free when she was with him. She bent down to pick up a briefcase before standing and closing the bedroom door. She looked over at him and smiled.

"Got everything?"

"Oui."

". . . Alright. Would you like me to drop you off at your home on my way in?" she asked.

He waved her off. "S' okay, chère. My brother will be here soon." She nodded. "Okay." Neither of them spoke for a few moments, Ororo's heart was tight in her chest just at the thought of leaving Remy, even if it was because she had to go to work. It was amazing how much she'd come to need his presence.

Her heels were muffled as she treaded along on the carpet, where she laid down her bag and sunk to her knees directly in front of Remy. She put her hand on his right knee and leaned in, brushing her lips against his in a soft parting kiss. Remy wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in tighter, bringing his hand to her hair and smoothing it back softly, the feeling of it so soft to his touch. He titled his head slightly taking more of her lips and he poured how much he wanted her to stay into their embrace. Her hand left his knee to cup around his neck as she returned his kisses with like affection.

"I have to leave." Her tone was low, subdued as she still held him close to her face. "I know," he replied. She kissed him lightly, just once more before she cupped his face and smiled before grabbing the case and standing back to her feet. She turned to leave, her hand was on the knob when he called out to her.

"'Ro."

He jogged up to her and grabbed her free hand. "Come over t' my place after work," he propositioned, "Please?" Ororo shook her head and laughed. She grabbed him, encasing him in a hug. She spoke in his ear, "You know it. I'd love to." He smiled and hugged her back.

She let go of him reluctantly and started out the door again. "See you later, Remy. I—" She dropped her head, an ironic grin on her face. "Well, I . . . I'll see you then."

He swallowed and nodded his head. "'Til den, ma chérie."

When the door closed Remy simply stared at it blankly for awhile, perplexed and perturbed by how much he missed her and how he never wanted to see her walk out him, whether for work or otherwise; it didn't matter. Remy knew it was silly, but it wasn't something he ever wanted to see again, even if nothing was wrong. She should be there with him, wherever he was she should be. He realized then and there, he never wanted to see her go—not anywhere without him.

* * *

Author's Note: Just filler fluff :D Thanks for your reviews =) 'Til the next update . . .


	28. Chapter 28

**Author's Note**: Very sorry about the wait, please don't hate me :D  
I, myself, know how agonizing it is to wait for a story update and I apologize profusely for doing that to you all. A big thank you to: Slightly, Brazos, Razzoo, Gumbosgirl, Joi de Vivre, Happy 1, SunshineAli, Testorshia, 'No Name Submitted', Old Freak, Equinox, Sleepless, Daddygal, Kitty, Bubba, Bobo, Just Curious, Street Scene, and the talented Antay for reviewing chapter 27. You all are fabulously great :D Only about 4-5 chapters before I wrap this story up ( :crosses fingers: ) Thanks for reading & reviewing and sticking with it even though the updates have not been as frequent as I had planned. Oh and 'Gator Bait' - LOL :D

- Ashra

* * *

**- 28 -  
**

"Did y' talk t' de man?" Remy asked.

Ororo looked up at him and shook her head. "No. I couldn't. When I got to the office he wasn't there and when I finally asked Kathryn if she knew where he was, she told me he had gone home before I even got there. Said he wasn't feeling well." Ororo shrugged.

Remy sighed. "Do not worry about it, Remy," Ororo smiled. She scooted closer to him on the sofa, her heels long discarded in a heap by the door. "I'll speak with him soon enough, the last thing I want on the job is tension caused by a simple misunderstanding. As far as I know, he doesn't even think of me that way." Ororo grabbed Remy's hand and laid a kiss on the inside of his palm and then smiled up at him. Remy grinned at her and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

"I'm not worried, chère. I promise."

"Good." Ororo sidled closer to him, sinking further into the sofa. She sighed contentedly. "This is a great couch, Remy." She chuckled. "It would not do me any good to lay here much longer or I might fall asleep."

"No, y' not goin' t' sleep," Remy said, shaking his head. A incredulous look crossed Ororo's face. "Oh. So you can crash at my house but I can't crash at yours, huh?" she protested. "Oh, y' can sleep at my house, chérie. I jus' said y' ain' goin' t' sleep _**now**_." Remy swooped in fast and took Ororo's lips within his own. Ororo laughed and he smiled against her mouth. "Dis right here, what we doin', is mo' impo'tant den sleep."

"Oh, is it now?" she asked between stolen breaths. Remy nodded. "Mm-hmm. Oui." Ororo's laugh turned into a surprised gasp when Remy suddenly grabbed her waist and pulled her on top of him so she straddled his lap, her knees bent on either side of him causing her skirt to bunch and rise high up on her thighs. "Remy." Ororo sighed, her eyes wide as he captured her mouth again. His hands gripped her hips and he pulled her to him abruptly in an attempt to draw her closer.

Ororo's hands gripped his shoulders hard as Remy's strong hands ran down her slender back. They stopped at her waist where Remy slowly began pulling at the white material of Ororo's button down shirt, where it had been neatly tucked inside just a moment ago. Ororo sighed into his mouth, gripping the nape of his neck as he ran cool hands under her shirt and up her smooth back, his fingers tracing along her spine. Ororo hissed lightly as her body arched forward under the pressure of his hands.

"Mon Dieu, girl," Remy growled deeply. Her skin felt wonderful under his hands and her small sounds of want made the blood pulse in his veins. He didn't want to rush her or overwhelm her but damn him if he couldn't help himself. Ororo was more than just desirable, she was all kinds of incredible and all he knew was he wanted her. It's all that ran through his mind.

I want her. I want her. I want her.

With an occasional: I need her. I need her. I want her. I need her.

. . . Both were true.

"Remy . . . Remy, look at me a moment, please. I - just look at me for a second."

Remy was panting when he leaned back to look her. His chest heaving up and down heavily, as was hers, the latter motion was fairly distracting him. "What's wrong, 'Ro?" Remy struggled to normalize his breathing. He brushed her long white hair over her shoulder and lifted her chin towards him, meeting her suddenly downcast eyes. It worried him a little. Didn't she want him same as he wanted her?

His eyes searched her face as she slowly lifted her eyes to catch his questioning red ones which still simmered with arousal. Ororo reached out and touched his face. "Nothing is wrong, Remy. I just - well . . . I could - tell . . . where this was going and I - well I—" Remy sat still, patiently waiting for her to continue. "Go on, chère," he encouraged. Ororo rubbed her hand over her mouth and laughed lightly, shrugging her shoulders gently. "I'm afraid I do not have much - _**any **_- ex - experience in such matters," she stammered. She let out a derisive laugh. "My God, I sound like an idiot. Like a health professor instead of—"

"Chère, chère, chère . . . It's alright. Y' don't - I . . . I understand. No worries, eh?" He smiled at her reassuringly and stroked her cheek with his thumb. She breathed a sigh of relief and shook her head slowly. "This is, kind of - embarrassing. Remy, I'm sorry—"

"'Ro, stop," Remy demanded softly. "Stop apologizin' t' me like you've done somet'ing wrong." Ororo smiled tentatively and softly nodded her head. Remy smiled at her and drew her into him for a hug. Her voice was muffled against his shoulder when she spoke. "Thank you, Remy. Maybe from the way I've been acting—. I don't mean to . . . tease you or anything. It's just I . . . don't want to disappoint you."

Remy grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back so she could see the truth in his eyes. "Ororo, listen t' me," he said. His eyes fixed hers. "You listenin'?" She smiled a little and nodded. "Y' not disappointin' Remy, chère. I don' t'ink y' could ev'n if y' tried." She laughed then. "Understand me?"

"Yes," she nodded. "I do."

"Good." Remy cupped her face and placed a gentle kiss on her cushioned lips, slipping his warm tongue in ever so slightly so that Ororo groaned and open her mouth wider to receive more. _**This time **_Remy laughed. "We keep dis up, chère, y' gon get real experienced, real quick." Ororo's head fell back as the room filled with her burst of laughter.

* * *

"'Ro, tell me y' not gon' eat de sugared dumplings befo' y' eat de rest of de food."

The dumpling stopped inches from Ororo's mouth as she turned to look at Remy with a guilty look her face. She looked so adorable just then all Remy could do was laugh and shake his head. "Oh all right," Ororo conceded with a wave of her hand, rolling her eyes.

"Dat's better." When Remy turned back around to grab a spoon out of his drawer, Ororo shoved the battered, golden ball into her mouth so fast Remy barely caught her.

"'Roro!"

Ororo laughed over a mouth full of sugary dumpling as she covered her mouth with sticky fingers. "Now I'm ready for the other stuff," she laughed in between chews.

"I bet," Remy said, returning to his work of finding utensils. Ororo smiled and sat in one of the chairs around the table. She rifled through the containers with interest as she spoke.

"Hey, Remy?"

"Yeah, chère?"

She took out a cartoon of stirred fired noodles. "Would—" Ororo hesitated. Remy glanced over his shoulder at her. "Would what?" Ororo bit her lip before letting it all spill out in a rush. "Would you like to come to Baltimore with me in a few weeks?" She watched him for a bit as Remy walked towards the table laughing, utensils in hand.

"Dat's it?"

"Um, yep." He placed a plate in front of her and began pouring out the fragrant noodles onto her plate. "Y' didn' even have t' ask me dat, chère." Remy paused as he recalled the way he had felt as he watched her leaving for work earlier. The sense of loss he had felt when she had left him there—alone. Of being somewhere without her. Once again, it sobered him.

"I wouldn' let y' leave wit'out me," he finished.

Ororo licked her finger of soy sauce and grinned. Remy's gaze heated at the gesture, the small flash of her pink tongue.

_Mon Dieu_.

He cleared his throat and continued serving the food out. "So chérie, why are we goin' t' Baltimore?"

Ororo sat back and picked up a fork. "Several weeks ago my dad sent me an e-mail and asked if I could come home for a few days because he wanted to discuss something with me. Whatever it is he wants to speak to me about he would like to do it in person. I called my superiors this morning at work to make sure I could and they graciously gave me the go ahead. I'm calling my dad later to make the arrangements."

Remy looked at her. "So I'm goin' t' meet daddy?" Remy raised an eyebrow, a sly look on his face and smirked at her.

Ororo smiled back brightly. She rose slightly out of her chair and leaned over the table to peck Remy on his perfect smirking lips. "Mm-hmm. You're going to meet daddy," she confirmed, laughter in her voice. She pecked his lips once more before dropping back into her seat.

". . . And my friend, Jean. God, I can't wait." She smiled. "They'll love you, Remy. Just like—" Ororo froze and cleared her throat, cheeks burning furiously.

_.Stupid._

"Just . . . just like your family," she stammered out. Ororo fell silent, eyes downcast as she twirled her fork in the noodles before letting it clatter to her plate. Her chair scrapped the floor loudly in her haste as she stood up swiftly. "I have to use the bathroom, Remy. I'll be right back." She failed to meet his eyes when she left. Remy watched her disappear through the doorway as she exited the kitchen.

Remy's heart pounded with something like excitement and disappointment as he stared after her. He sighed loudly and shoved a hand through his thick mass of hair, his heart drumming double time in his chest. "Merde," he mumbled under his breath.

"_Just like __**me**__. Just like __**me**__." _

It was easy.

So why couldn't she have just . . . said it?

* * *

Dinner was much quieter when Ororo returned to the table. She ate only a little and talked even less. Remy wanted to say something, to address the elephant in the room, but from the look on Ororo's face he figured it may be best to simply wait awhile. She appeared embarrassed from his observation from across the table and all Remy wanted to do was shake her, force her to rest those magnificent blue eyes upon him and explain to her that she had nothing to be embarrassed about. His only regret was that she had stopped before confessing it completely.

_**Unless**_, he was presupposing what she had been about to say. Could that be it? Remy shook his head.

"Nah, dat ain't it . . ."

"What 'ain't' it?" Remy's eyes lifted to see Ororo staring at him quizzically. He'd hadn't realized he'd spoken out loud. "Oh, I was just t'inkin', chère. Nevahmind me."

Ororo gave him a soft smile and continued pushing around the food on her plate. God, she was an idiot. It was times like these that Ororo missed the more repressed, aloof side of her personality. The side that didn't blurt out things like a two-year old child. But it had just . . . flowed out of her mouth. Almost. It'd been completely unconscious, she hadn't even realized what she had been about to say. Thankfully, she had caught herself. And what did Remy think of it? God help her if she ran him off, scaring the man with talk of love right after asking him to meet her friends and family.

After all, Remy hadn't even came close to admitting feelings for her like that. To confess hers now . . . it would all go unreciprocated. The thought of that devastated her. It _**would **_devastate her.

"Well, chère. I was gon' ask y' sometime later but I guess now's a good a time as any."

_Oh God. _

Not now. She didn't want to discuss this now.

"If Remy gon' be meetin' your père, den I guess it's only fair dat y' meet mine too."

_Whew. Wait . . . ! What?_

Ororo balked. "Come again?" Remy grinned at her. "Dat a problem?" he asked.

"No! Of course not I—. Remy, what do you mean?"

Remy scooted his chair closer to hers and grabbed under the seat of her chair and pulled her towards him, the chair scrapping softly on the tiled floor until she was directly in front of him; so close their knees touched. "I told my père 'bout y' de other day at breakfast. He wants t' meet you." Remy laid his hand over hers and held it. "An' Remy wants y' t' meet him."

Ororo's lips began twitching into the makings of a pleased smile. "You . . . do?"

"Oui," he nodded. "I do." The smile won out and Ororo blushed, her cocoa skin flushing a deep red. Remy saw it and his heart fluttered inside him. She was just so beautiful . . . _**too **_beautiful.

It could kill a man.

"That's . . ." Ororo fumbled finding the words. "That's something, Remy. I'm . . . delighted. I'd _**be **_delighted."

"Now dat's what I wanna hear," Remy said. He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her lips. "Mmm. Dat's good," he murmured deeply, diving back in for another one. Ororo giggled. "Your crazy."

"Crazy 'bout you." Ororo shook head shortly and cupped his face, holding him still against her mouth as she left soft, lingering kisses on his supple lips, his stubble tickling her. It was moments like these she wanted to say it—yearned to say it. She felt it, at least she thought she did. Why would she want to utter it so freely if it weren't true?

Instead, she settled for:

"When? When do I meet him?" Remy drew back reluctantly and licked his lips, savoring the sweet taste of her. "A little under three weeks," he answered.

Ororo frowned lightly, quirking her head. "Why three weeks?" Remy grinned and took her lips again, muttering against them. "'Cause dat's when de governor is havin' his birthday party here, in New Orleans, an' me an' y' gon' be dere."

"What!" Ororo squealed. She jumped up, eyes as wide as the grin on her face. "Are you kidding?"

Remy stood and laughed. "Non. Pop gon' be dere seein' as he's de mayor an' he asked me t' bring y' dere so he could meet you. Dat way he'll be distracted wit' all de other happenings an' he won't nag y' so much," Remy teased.

Ororo slapped his arm playfully. "Oh, Remy." He chuckled and shifted around so his chest was against her back and wrapped his arms around her waist, his chin resting in the crook of her neck. Remy kissed the vein there.

"Y' excited?"

"Uh . . . yeahhh."

"Nervous?"

"Uh . . . yeahhh." Ororo laughed and Remy shook his head at her, squeezing her tighter. He loved the soft press of her body against his. Her laughter, her humor, (who knew it had been there all along?) her smile, her skin … eyes … hair … Remy loved it all and all of it was his because _**she **_was his. He never wanted to let her ago. Ever.

"I'll have to get a dress!"

"Ooh, I kno' how much y' hate t' have t' do dat," Remy joked.

"Heeeyyy," Ororo chastised, looking back at him. "Are you saying I'm a clothes horse?" He shook his head. "No."

Peck.

"Your."

Peck.

"My girl."

Peck.

"An' dat's all—"

Peck.

"I care 'bout."

Peck.

Ororo grabbed the back of his head, entangling her fingers through the dark silk strands and kissed him over her shoulder—hard. "Me too."

* * *

It was late when Ororo finally made it back to her own home that evening, though not quite late enough to make the two calls that needed to be made. Ororo placed her tote on the ground by her desk and went into her bedroom where she stripped out of her skirt suit and pulled on her signature yoga pants and tank t-shirt. She pulled her hair into a careless bun atop her head as she sank into the chair behind her desk. Ororo yawned and dialed.

_Emma first. _

"Hello, Ororo," Emma greeted.

"Hello, Dr. Summers."

"So formal, Ororo?" her voice teased over the line.

Ororo sighed. "All right, hello, _**Emma**_," Ororo corrected.

"Hmm, much better." Ororo rolled her eyes. "Listen, I won't take up much of your time, I just wanted to call and see if you know when you and Mr. Summers will be back."

"Less than a week. We would have been back in town sooner, but … well, minor complications arose with the new facility—as always. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, it's nothing important," Ororo said. "I just wanted to know if you'd be back before I leave."

"Yes, we'll be back but we'll only be in New Orleans for two or three days before leaving again."

"Oh," Ororo paused, "Wow. So soon, Dr. Summers?"

Emma chuckled. "'Fraid so. I don't mind though, actually, I rather enjoy it all. So, is everything all right on your end, Ororo?"

"Yeah … yes," Ororo supplied. Nathan. She sighed exasperatedly and bit her bottom lip. "Everything is alright, except … well, I believe I may have offended Dr. Dayspring," Ororo confessed. In all honesty, it was a bit bothersome to Ororo to think that Nathan was upset with her. The last thing she desired was bad blood between her and one of her colleagues. She hadn't thought she was too firm on the phone when he'd called, but her perception and his could have been entirely different.

"Oh?"

Ororo's chair squeaked as she laid back onto it. "Yeah."

"Would you like to talk about it?" Ororo thought about the offer for a moment. She did want to discuss it, but in person, not over the telephone. And not one to be dishonest, especially with her employers, Ororo wanted to disclose the situation with Remy too—explain the situation so there would be no confusion and no potential unpleasant quandaries to arise because of it. She'd explain it all, leave no stone unturned. "Could you and I discuss it when you arrive, Emma? I would like to speak with you in person if you have the time."

"Of course, I'd prefer that as well. I'll call you when you arrive and then we can discuss an appropriate time, okay?"

"Thank you, that would be great."

"Sounds good. Oh, Ororo! Did you receive my gift yet?"

Ororo pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Gift?" Ororo frowned.

"The gift! The one I told you I was sending you!"

"Ohhh! Um, no, not yet."

"Ugh! I would've thought you'd have had it by now. For all that I could've just waited to give it to you in person when we got back."

"Emma, there was no need to get me a gift in the first place."

"But I wanted to, and I know you'll love it."

"I'm sure I will love it too. Tell you what, I'll be on the look out for it and I'll let you know as soon as I get it. It's very nice of you, Mrs. Summers, thank you."

"Sure. Your welcome, Ororo. I'll see you in a few days then."

"Okay, Mrs. Summers. And thank you."

When Ororo's call with Emma ended she didn't call bother to call Charles right away. Instead, she slumped back in her chair and stared absently at the ceiling above her, a myriad of things flitting across her mind. But as always, her thoughts stopped on Remy.

He was traveling to Baltimore with her, to meet her family and she in turn was going to meet his. Strange how it had all worked. Ororo wasn't worried about her father and Jean liking Remy, that was a done deal Ororo thought smirking. But for some inexplicable reason, she was mildly concerned about what Charles wanted to speak with her about simply because she knew _**him**_. Her adopted father was a bit of an eccentric—kind, brilliant, nevertheless an eccentric, particularly when it involved his mutant right's work.

It wasn't a subject she herself gave much thought to, though maybe she should. Of course she was 'one', but Ororo knew so little about her mutation and the nuances of it that she kind of kept it on the backburner so to speak. As far as Remy's mutation went, he'd told her he only used his powers to light his cigarettes and didn't know any more about his abilities then Ororo did hers. Knowing her father, Ororo could only imagine how fascinated Charles would be with him. Ororo's eyes flitted shut while a dreamy sigh escaped her mouth. But _**everything **_was fascinating about Remy wasn't it?

Ororo figured her own abilities were connected to her emotions somehow from the different instances she'd seen them exhibited. As a matter of fact, just weeks before coming to New Orleans, Jonathan had said something over the phone that had angered her immensely and the next thing Ororo knew, lightning (from a clear sky) had struck a tree outside of her home. After that, she didn't really want to feel _**anything **_emotional following that and did her best to suppress any sort of reaction that would invoke them.

Now, she was with Remy and strong emotions are all she knew these days. One in particular scared her more than all the others and Ororo was helpless as to what she should do about it—_**with **_it. Jean could help her sort through it all, Jean _**would **_help her. Ororo smiled to herself, Jean would be sickeningly overjoyed when she found out about him.

Sweet nostalgia crept up on Ororo at her thoughts of Jean and Charles and going home. Suddenly her and Remy's trip to Baltimore couldn't come soon enough.

Ororo prematurely wished she had taken Remy up on his offer to stay the night. Earlier it had seemed the right and 'pragmatic' thing to do, that way, she wouldn't overcrowd him and Remy wouldn't have her acting like a besotted teenage girl. Well, Ororo didn't know if she had been successful in her attempt to not overcrowd Remy, but Remy _**still **_had her feeling like a besotted teenage girl and he wasn't even around. She both scorned and relished that.

Absently, Ororo wondered if he was just as smitten about her as she was about him. Everything was still so confusing and frighteningly new, the feelings. Trying to think back on her and Jonathan's relationship to learn would only prove unfruitful because what she had experienced with him was nothing like what she was currently experiencing with Remy LeBeau. The want and desire, the butterflies in the pit of her stomach, the tender moments when she watched him without his knowledge and stirring she felt as she did, while admiring his dark elegance.

Ororo never believed she would be one of those women who squealed with joy whenever their man called them some sugary-sweet pet name like 'Mushy Bear' and who absently wondered and daydreamed about what their better half was doing 'right now' during their own personal downtime. But Remy made her swoon … literally made her swoon.

Ororo sat up and grabbed her phone, preparing to phone her father before it got too late and thoughts of Remy took her off to fantasyland. She may not have been squealing for joy over a pet name but she was certainly wondering what her man was doing right now.

One in two wasn't bad right?

* * *

Remy had turned in early that night just so he could lay on his back in bed and be alone with his thoughts of Ororo. It had sort of become an activity or hobby lately, just like watching television. He made up some sort of flimsy excuse to Logan and Henri about being tired and having a minor headache just to get himself off the hook of perusing New Orleans many nightclubs with them tonight. Henri had bought it hook, line, and sinker while the ever insightful Logan had just nodded, a knowing gleam in his eyes. Logan could probably smell it on him. That's how Logan knew everything. Whenever Logan would make a statement about something and other people asked him how he knew, Logan (without fail) would simply reply: "'Cuz I can smell it."

If that was the case, what could Logan smell on him? Infatuation, tenderness, happiness?

**Love?**

Remy had felt the first three the very moment he'd first laid eyes on Ororo in her office all the those months ago, seemed like forever ago. The dance they had done. Well, the dance _**she **_had done. Remy had no bones about what he wanted. They both had wanted it, but it had been Ororo who'd been wary to admit it. Back then when he knew her only as Dr. Ororo Munroe, instead of simply Ororo.

Love. All his mind had replayed tonight was that bit with Ororo earlier as they had sat down to eat in his kitchen. Remy had practically sat on the edge of his seat, holding his breath in anticipation of her saying it.

But she didn't. Would she skirt around that the same way she had skirted around her attraction to him before? Ororo was so much more open now, everyday the repressed vibe she had gave off fading away more and more. She laughed with him, she hugged, him, she kissed him . . .

She touched him.

And her touch … God, her touch. It burned like fire against his skin. He had been about ready to rip off the snazzy little skirt suit she had worn earlier on the sofa and fervently give her all that desire she had churning inside of him since the day he met her. He'd never gone this long without before. The thing was, Remy didn't have just a desire for sex—he had a desire for _**her**_, to have _**her **_in that way—the most intimate of ways. No one else would do.

And for Remy LeBeau, Cajun Casanova, Acadian Don Juan; it was a scary thought. A fantastically consuming, frightening thought.

But a truthful one too. He wanted to share it with her because it was the deepest expression of his affections.

And he truly wanted to express it.

But he could wait until she was comfortable. Look how long he had waited before she agreed to start seeing each other. Remy exhaled a sigh and sat up on the edge of his bed, reaching down to grab the discarded pants that lay in a heap on his floor and searched the pockets for his coveted crumpled pack of cigarettes. As always, the end glowed magenta before igniting completely, a small stream of smoke drifting from the end as he lit it. The cig was satisfying enough, but he was anxious and restless so Remy did what he always did when he got a little antsy.

He chain-smoked.

Remy scratched at the coarse hair on his face before fishing out another smoke and proceeded with his normal procedure of lighting it. True to form the end glowed that same pink-purple color only it didn't stop at the end of the stick. The entire glowing cigarette flushed magenta so shockingly fast that Remy dropped it in surprise, the cancer stick falling to the ground by his bare feet. Remy watched with fascination as the cigarette glowed blinkingly and * _**boof **_* — combusted into a pile of nothingness. The remaining scent of tobacco wafted to his nostrils.

Remy stared at the spot on the ground where the tobacco had fallen earlier and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "Merde," he muttered to himself.

That had never happened before. He didn't know quite what to make of it either. Remy exhaled noisily and glanced over his shoulder at the empty spot in his bed, the wrinkled bedding. He pressed his lips together resolutely before getting up and grabbing his pants and a shirt.

He shouldn't have asked her whether or not she wanted to stay. He should have just told her exactly where she was staying tonight. With him. No argument.

A situation easily rectifiable though. Remy grinned, grabbing his keys off of the dresser and depositing them into his pockets as he found a pair of shoes under his bed. He grabbed an old gym bag out of his closet and stuffed a change of clothes into it before zipping it up. Remy glanced around his room one last time before flicking the light switch, his room now cloaked in darkness, bag in hand, and strode through his house towards the door. It slammed shut securely as he locked it from the outside, jogging to his car.

No, being alone tonight just wouldn't do.


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's Note:** I'm currently writing another OreO AU that I cannot wait to share with you guys and I'm hoping you all will take the ride with me on that story as well. (And this time the updates will be timely. Guaranteed :D) As always, thanks for reading & taking time to review & for being patient with me between the lagging updates.

**Quick warning: **It gets a bit, er, racy/explicit this chapter so I forewarn beforehand just in case anyone finds it offensive. I don't write 'intimate' moments gratuitously, if at all, but with romances sometimes I feel the story is a bit shorn without them; it really just depends on the story. Particularly when writing Gambit since Remy is such a sensual character and Storm is just beyond hot and together well … you get the idea :D Alrighty, enjoy all!

_Edited & Omitted 1/2011 for T rating_

- Ashra

**- 29 -**

Their scheduled lunch was a late one. One that took place after a busy day of sessions, consultations, and a small welcoming party for the Summers' located in the conference room, put on by the grateful employees of Valhalla Psychiatry. It was the first time Ororo had been able to speak to Nathan since that morning he had called her and where Ororo had been resigned to getting a cool response from Nathan, he had been warm, understanding, and friendly; he had even apologized himself for being short with her on the phone that morning. "_It is all right, _Ororo had told him, "_I just didn't want you angry with me and I thought maybe you were." _

Nathan had responded with a smile and gripped Ororo's shoulder, stepping closer. _"I could never be angry with you, Ororo. You know that don't you?" _Ororo's grin was tight and uneasy at his spoken words—the lowness of his deep voice as he practically hummed near her ear was unsettling to say the least and she muttered a: _"Well … um, thanks." _Her eyes shifted somewhere beyond Nathan before scurrying off towards Emma to ask about meeting after the workday was over.

The conversation with Nathan seemed even more disconcerting after Kathryn casually informed Ororo that she had never told Nathan about the change in Ororo's schedule that day which meant that Nathan had to have been snooping around in Kathryn's agenda or computer.

Now, sitting here with Emma, Ororo wondered if she ought to mention it.

"Then he wasn't angry as you thought," Emma asked. Ororo shook head her, thinking it best that perhaps she not mention it at all. No harm came of it and it would only serve to cause tension at the office, accusations being thrown around. He had apologized, she had apologized and Ororo simply wanted to leave it at that.

"So then no worries, eh, Ororo? I told you before that I knew for a fact Dr. Dayspring was attracted to you, but you didn't believe me."

Ororo huffed. "So you did. I should have acquiesced to your superior knowledge. You always did know everything." Emma tossed her hair as her bell of laughter rang out around them. Ororo tore off a piece from the soft, buttered roll in her hand and smiled up at her mentor, a slightly nervous smile. Ororo's heart drummed faster in her chest, the pace more rapid than normal as she casually chewed the remnants of her bread.

"Emma, did - - have you seen the hard copy file I left you in your office?" Ororo inquired casually. Emma crunched on a butter dripping asparagus before smirking at Ororo knowingly. She picked up another. "You mean Mr. LeBeau's withdrawal information from Valhalla?"

Her eyes shot up. Ororo nodded slowly. "I am."

"Well then, yes, I did see it."

"Good. I wanted to talk to you about it … about the circumstances provoking it." Ororo laid down her fork beside her plate, hands in her lap as she met Emma's gaze across the small linen-draped table. Emma's mouth curved into a wry grin and her eyebrow rose in amusement.

"You would?"

"Yes. I - - I would like to explain why he - - why we decided he should no longer continue to seek treatment at Valhalla Psychiatry. I feel I should clue you and Mr. Summers in on as to what happened in your absence … with - - with … Mr. LeBeau … and I." Ororo fought not to wince at her own wording, the inappropriate way it had sounded just now. Ororo frowned lightly at Emma's high-pitched chuckling.

"What?" Ororo asked, her brow wrinkling in befuddlement.

"Nothing. I—" Emma smiled, waved dismissively. "Go on, Ororo."

She paused a beat. "Uh - - well," Ororo floundered. "Well, Remy - - Mr. LeBeau was my patient—at first. But well— see I — he and I — Mr. LeBeau—" Ororo gestured wordlessly with her hands, finding herself to be extremely inarticulate at the moment and it frustrated her to no end.

"Ororo."

Ororo's hand gestures stopped mid-motion as she looked up to see Emma's blue eyes twinkling with merriment. Emma did her best to rein in her desire to laugh at her friend's rambling. She lifted her hand to halt anymore of Ororo's clumsy blustering. "Let me see if I can help you, my dear Ororo. Poor thing."

Ororo's hands dropped to her lap like a dead weight as her eyes narrowed, looking at Emma curiously.

Emma drank from her glass and begun. "You served as Mr. LeBeau's doctor but found yourself attracted to him, in which, knowing you," Emma added, "fought tooth and nail to deny the attraction, however found yourself hopelessly smitten underneath it all." Emma heaved in an overly dramatic breath. "Soooo you succumbed and now the cause of all your newfound gaiety, not to mention all the million dollar smiles I've seen on you today, are because you're seeing this Remy LeBeau. Former patient. Is that accurate?"

Surprised blinks. Several rapid, long-lashed blinks was Ororo's sole reply to Emma's eerily accurate summation of basically, well …the truth—what she herself had been struggling to relay only a moment ago. Ororo's mouth opened as if she intended to speak but then it promptly clamped shut again.

Dr. Telepath indeed.

"Dr. Su - - Emma … how would you … know? All … of that?" Ororo queried. She leaned forward in her seat, unconsciously toward Emma, as if in waiting to learn the answers to life's greatest questions.

Emma studied her freshly manicured nails and shrugged nonchalantly. "Just put the bits and pieces together, Ororo. You know, all the contextual stuff: your beaming smiles, the withdrawal information on my desk, et cetera. It wasn't difficult, I assure you." Emma's wine glass hovered near her mouth before winking at Ororo, an insolent smile on her lips. Darkly knowing.

"Mm-hmm," Ororo mumbled, disbelieving. Emma simply winked again before finishing off her wine, signaling a nearby waiter for a refill.

"And are you … displeased with me, Dr. Summers? Now that you know?" She sounded most like a child. A child seeking the approval of a parent, yet wary that they may not receive it. Wary of a reprimand.

Emma placed the empty glass back on the table before reaching across it and closing a pale hand over Ororo's wrist. Ororo's eyes rose to find Emma's fixed on her, her expression soft but serious all at once.

"Ororo, you should know better than to even ask me that. Why would I be displeased? Because you finally found someone worthwhile to be with? About time, I'd say. Ororo, you have so much to give, you always have although I'm not sure you knew it. Always so careful to please others—so … locked up all the time. Someone finally comes along with the key and I'm supposed to be angry with you? Oh, Ororo."

Ororo's head dropped as she swiped aggressively at an unshed tear before it had the chance to drop and embarrass her completely. Ororo sniffled and chanced a watery grin while Emma rubbed her wrist comfortingly.

"Th - - thank you, Emma. You're so - - so kind. Understanding. I'm … grateful for you," she said, her voice vaguely hoarse. "And - - and I'll have you know, Dr. Summers that Remy and I didn't start officially seeing each other until after his decision to withdraw. I promise you that," Ororo affirmed preemptively.

"I believe you, Ororo. Your decision to tell me all this is commendable, so is your honesty." Ororo nodded and smiled, her posture relaxed slightly. "You're quite a woman, Dr. Summers. And oddly perceptive … your knowledge of things, it is—" Ororo titled her head. "Uncanny. Do you know what your moniker was in med-school?"

"Dr. Telepath," Emma stated plainly.

"I should've known you'd know." Ororo rolled her eyes. "Someday, I'm going to find out if it's true." Emma laughed again and this time Ororo joined her.

"Someday, Ororo. Someday. However, what I do not know much about is your Remy LeBeau. Why don't you inform me, hmm?"

— **o —**

It was very late when Ororo waltzed through the door, the interior of the house dark and quiet with inactivity. Her stomach was uncomfortably full and her throat was slightly hoarse from the remainder of lunch where she had spent it laughing it up with Emma over the details of her and Scott's time away on business. Though, all of that was after Emma's inquisitive prying about Remy. Ororo had obliged, still a bit shy and hesitant about discussing their relationship openly, but after awhile it became easier, fun even. It made her realize all that she had been missing with Jonathan and all that she had never had with him—with anyone in retrospect. Something as simple as chatting with a friend about the significant other in your life - it was refreshing to her.

Emma had squealed like a little girl when Ororo told her that she had finally received the package Emma had sent her. A glamorous white dress with shimmering embellishments, a long train and matching high heels that had accompanied it. Ororo had studied it, completely enthralled by how beautiful the gown was as she delicately took it from it's heavy packaging and ran reverent fingers over it gently, sighing under her breath at the gorgeous piece of fabric. She could only imagine how expensive it was, the cost of such an item, not to mention the shoes.

Her and Emma had celebrated with champagne when Ororo informed her that she would wear it to the governor's birthday party she was attending with Remy soon. She and Emma had gushed excitedly about it, with Emma demanding Ororo take many, many pictures as she and Scott would be out of town for the event and would not get to see Ororo don it in person. So, after much catching up, champagne (which Ororo had declined on), and too many slices of cheesecake (which Ororo had feasted on gluttonously), Ororo waywardly made her way home.

Anticipating seeing _**him**_.

"Remy?" Ororo called out quietly. She didn't even drop her things, just made a beeline straight for her the guest room where she figured he'd be this time of night and the last place she'd seen him when she'd left this morning. Ororo creaked open the door, the light from the hallway spilling in and over onto a made, empty bed. Ororo frowned. Had he left? She thought he would have stayed. Sure, it was late but … she was looking forward to seeing him after work. Ororo huffed in deep disappointment. The giddy joy she had felt only moments earlier at seeing his face dissipating swiftly from her like a deflated balloon. Ororo closed the door with the same frown etched on her face. Immediately, she turned back around and headed for her bedroom. Maybe she should call him? He hadn't called her and told her he had left. She hadn't spoken with him since early this morning.

This time Ororo opened the door to _**her **_bedroom, closing it back as soon as she crossed the threshold. The shades in her room were still open and the light from outside was plenty enough to allow her to find the lamp near her bed and turn it on without incident. Ororo kicked off her shoes and set her bag by her dresser, too tired and downcast to bother with putting her things away properly as she usually would. It wasn't until she turned around while unbuttoning her vest that she gasped in surprise at the sleeping form laying prone in her bed. Ororo slapped her hand over her rapidly beating heart as she struggled to calm at the realization of his presence.

He had been there all along.

A brilliant smile slowly made its way across her features as she realized he'd been there the whole time.

Waiting for her.

Ororo finished undressing, her eyes never leaving his silent form as he laid on his stomach face turned in the opposite direction from where she stood. She let the clothing fall in a heap at her feet as she walked backwards and pulled out the first nightgown her hands fell on as she opened the drawer. Ororo pulled it over her head quickly, anxious to approach him and inspect him closer.

What'd she had wanted to do all day.

Ororo did away with the pins that held her hair and slowly walked towards the bed, her steps intentionally light so she wouldn't disturb him. She crawled noiselessly into the vacant space in the bed and dared to scoot closer to him and let her eyes roam his shirtless body.

He was amazing, just gorgeous. The toned expanse of his back revealing smooth vanilla skin. The broadness of his shoulders. The healthy shine to his long dark hair. The artful features that created his strong male beauty. Ororo absorbed it all and her heart nearly stopped at the strong emotion that washed over her as she admired him this way.

Her Remy.

Ororo silently raised a little, just enough to hover over him as she lowered her lips to his back, laying a light kiss to his spine, his shoulder. Ororo's hair rested across his back and shoulders and she slid up closer to his face, the apex of his beauty. She kissed his lips, a kiss as soft as rose petals just as her eyes began to fill with tears at the gesture. Ororo placed her lips just barely against his once more and whispered—without fear, without hesitation this time …

"I … love you."

The tears fell at her words, cascading down her cheeks and slipping down to fall on Remy's face, stirring him in his sleep.

Ororo quickly pulled back, wiping at her eyes as she sniffed back the remainder of her tears while Remy groaned lightly and opened bleary eyes that found her instantly.

"Hey, ma belle," he greeted deeply, voice low and gravelly with sleep. Ororo sniffed, composing herself and smiled at him quickly. "Hi, Remy. Good sleep?"

Remy chuckled and grabbed Ororo around the waist, pulling her into him. Ororo fell to the mattress, sharing a pillow with Remy as he reached up and combed his fingers through her hair.

"Oui, good sleep. Dreamt 'bout you."

"Oh?"

"Oui."

"What did you dream about me?"

Remy smiled, that signature devilish smile. "It felt real—very, very, real."

"What was it about?" Ororo asked again.

"You."

"I know!" Ororo laughed. "What did you dream about me?"

Remy leaned towards her, slowly taking her lips. "I'll tell y' later."

"Awww," Ororo groaned and rolled her eyes. Remy laughed and pulled her flush against him as his lips locked with hers, his hand falling to her lower back, pulling her closer until virtually no space existed between them both. He kissed her thoroughly until he felt the beginnings of an arousal stir and broke off the kiss with an agonized sigh, pulling at her nape to bring her closer where he could rest his forehead against her own.

"'Roro …" he breathed out. More to himself than her. This woman. His Ororo.

The way she made him feel . . .

And his dream. It felt so incredibly real. He figured it had to be a dream because it had simply been too good to be true. But still …

Her lips on his back. The graze of her silken hair. The press of her lips against his.

The whispered endearment he so desired to hear.

"_I … love you." _

"I didn't know you were here," she told him, gently cutting into his thoughts. "I thought you had left."

Remy clasped her hand and brought it up between them. "Never leave y', ma chère," he vowed. "Never." Ororo grinned and kissed the tip of his noise before settling back on her pillow; her smile was still in place.

Ororo closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, settling further into Remy's warmth and his arms immediately responded and drew her in. "You promise?" she whispered sleepily.

Remy kissed the top of her head and pulled the covers up around them both before clinging to her with a kind of needy desperation. The soft low glow of light in the room falling on Ororo's wondrous cocoa skin made her appear completely golden and he caressed the side of her face in something akin to genuine awe of just how inexplicably gorgeous the woman nestled against him was.

"I promise," he answered a now sleeping Ororo.

This too felt like a dream … but it was real. My God, this was real and all kinds of incredible—what he felt.

For her.

Perhaps his dream had been real as well.

But even if it had not, it wouldn't keep from confessing his next words to her, whispered just as softly as hers had been to him.

"I love you, Ororo . . . Je t'aime."

— **o —**

The intoxicating scent of Remy's cologne and natural fragrance had lulled Ororo into a deep sleep—that and the warm feel of his body, the strength of his arms that had enveloped her all night, but it had been the rough stubble on the bottom of his face that tickled her awake.

So, she woke up laughing, induced by his bristly facial hair. When Ororo made to slink out of the bed she was immediately drawn in by a strong sinewy arm that effectively put her right back where she had started, demolishing the progress she had made exiting it.

Ororo waited.

She listened as Remy mumbled something incoherently and after a few more moments— judging from the still silence—fell asleep again. She held her breath as she gingerly lifted his arm from around her. Slowly, painstakingly, easing inch by inch out from under the refuge of his arms. She glanced back one more time to make sure he was sleep as her feet touched the floor and she stood, stretching high and leisurely, feeling restful and yes, like she had slept on cloud nine.

After a good period of stretching where she had bent down and touched her toes, leaned from side to side, Ororo turned around to find a pair of mischievous red and black eyes watching her under a rim of long lashes. He lie on his side, head propped by his hand and elbow, and a leering smirk on his face.

"Aww, don' stop now, chère. Remy was enjoyin' de show, non?"

Ororo shot him a look and Remy laughed, sitting up further on the bed. She didn't see his amused smile but she heard him clear his throat before asking. "Tried t' sneak out, eh? Didn't t'ink I would notice?"

"No. I did not want to wake you."

The smirk widened.

"Chère, I awoke as soon as I felt dat y' were gone."

Ororo laughed. "I wasn't _**gone**_."

"Fine," he amended, "I awoke as soon as I felt y' weren't dere … beside me." Those same eyes grew warm, so warm and galvanizing so quickly that Ororo was forced to turn from them, her heart hammering against her chest.

"_I … love you."_

That familiar feeling from last night washed over Ororo once more and she turned away completely this time, her hand clasped over her mouth. Ororo let her eyes drift closed.

"'Roro … y' okay?" Ororo heard the bed creak behind her as Remy got up to go to over to her. "I'm okay, Remy. Um … I'm just … just going to have a shower." Ororo had begun collecting her things for her shower when she felt hands closing in on her from behind. When Remy's back touched hers a tremor pass through her and she visibly shivered. Remy saw it—felt it, and he smiled broadly, smugly.

"A shower, hmm?" he hummed near her ear.

"A … shower," Ororo managed. God, she hoped that was all he asked her; Ororo could hear the shakiness of her own voice and didn't trust it enough to answer anymore of Remy's questions, especially when he spoke in that velvety hypnotic tone.

"So Ororo wants t' take a shower," he murmured lowly. "By yourself?" he queried. Her response was cut short when she felt Remy's hand gliding along her thighs.

Up.

Up.

Large hands along smooth brown flesh.

His eyes glowed with fire and they seemed to ignite everything that they fell on.

So beautiful.

— **o —**

Ororo's legs still felt wobbly, unsteady as she dressed after her shower. She could still feel his hands, his lips, his fingers …

Ororo shook her head and continued dressing, sitting down on her bed as she pulled on peep-toe pumps, flushing again. She rose to her feet, smoothing down her sage green sundress and grabbed her bag and sunglasses. She was walking towards the door just as Remy opened it.

Ororo watched his eyes flit from her light pink toenails all the way towards her crimpy hair. Ororo touched it self-consciously. She had not straightened it, just blow-dried it and left her hair in the wild style it had dried in. It hung crimpy and big and wild down around her waist and she feared that her Diana Ross-esque 'do may have been a little too much.

"Don't like it?" she asked, her face setting into a trepid grimace.

Remy's eyes gleamed and his hand left the knob as he walked up to her and ran a single hand through the crimpy mass. "It's beautiful," he affirmed softly. "Mon Dieu, Ororo, y' are so—" He shook his head in a gesture of silent wonder. "Beautiful."

That hand … _**his **_hand … the fingers on those hands …

"Just trying to keep up with you." Ororo cleared her throat as her face warmed, she dropped her head slightly to hide that incessant flush that kept reappearing ever since … since earlier.

Remy laughed and Ororo took the distraction to grab his hand bringing it to her lips. A lump formed in his throat. She cleared her own again. "Ready? Because I'm suddenly feeling ravenous and Capalti's breakfast is scrum-diddley-umptious."

". . . Scrum-diddley-umptious?" Remy roared. "Yeah," Ororo said laughing, "Like the Willy Wonka bar?" Remy laughed even harder and Ororo smiled, grabbed his hand and began pulling him out the door.

— **o —**

Logan shoveled food in his mouth like a man on death roll eating his last meal. He had to have ordered every breakfast meat on the menu - the only thing he had _**not **_full of protein was the beer he'd paid a waiter underhand to succor for him. When Ororo had casually teased him about it, he countered with pointed examples of her raging sweet tooth. Statements like: "Everything on yer plate is either covered in sugar, syrup, or a combination of both, darlin'." And both Logan and Remy laughed at her expense.

Ororo liked him - he had a good soul. A little rough … a little gruff, but a good soul nonetheless. And handsome, ruggedly handsome. Not the pretty boy handsomeness of a man like Remy, but a rough attractiveness swathed with a pulsing masculinity that called to the femininity inside a woman. The bulge of muscles on his body was more than she had ever seen on a man.

Jean would love him.

Ororo smirked at her latter thought.

"So," Logan said loudly, interrupting her musing. "Whatta 'bout that freak storm earlier, eh?" Ororo gulped and her eyes shot over to Remy who was already beginning to smirk.

"I'm sorry?" Ororo croaked, rubbing at her throat. Both men looked at her warily as she rubbed at her throat and swallowed a large swig of water. The tell-tale signs of that familiar blush colored her mocha cheeks and Logan's eyes narrowed in on her curiously.

"The storm. Didn't you guys see it?" he asked incredulously. Remy's smirk just widened and Ororo floundered under both men's stares.

"It never rained," Logan continued, "but it got dark all of a sudden and there was heat lightning like crazy! Never seen anything like it. Reddish lightning flashing all over the sky."

"O - - oh yes - that. I - - I remember. It was hot - - it looked hot - - the lightning I mean," Ororo finished awkwardly. Ororo's eyes cut over to Remy who looked like he was fit to burst with contained laughter.

Logan eyed them quizzically, his grey eyes looking between them both. Logan's phone rang somewhere on his body drawing his attention and allowing Ororo to breathe a sigh of relief as he's eyes fell on the phone alive in his hands. Ororo looked up to find Remy's twinkling eyes and he winked at her knowingly. Ororo blushed and squeezed her crossed legs even tighter together involuntarily in response. Across the table Remy prided himself on a job well done, plans already forming in his head on how he and Ororo could create some more 'heat storms' when they got alone again.

"Yeah, he's right here," Logan was saying. Remy glanced over at Logan just as Logan held his phone out in front of Remy. "Here, it's Henri. Said he couldn't reach ya on yer phone." Remy sighed and accepted the device, standing up to move to a quieter area as he spoke into the phone.

"Wha'? Yeah - - yeah. Wha'd y' say?"

Logan just shook his head and jerked a thumb in Remy's direction as if to say, 'this guy.' Ororo smiled and picked up her fork just as a large shadow loomed over their table.

The waiter.

"Ororo." A familiar voice. It didn't belong to the waiter.

Ororo looked up and found Nathan standing in front of their table—a strange expression on his face. Ororo's mouth fell open, missing Logan's look of confusion across from her. Ororo's brow crinkled and she frowned.

"Nathan?"

"Is this him?" He ignored her inquisitive expression and gestured towards Logan. Ororo looked at Logan and back to Nathan.

"Excuse me?"

"The one your seeing." Ororo's eyes stretched and Logan made a deep grunt of disapproval across from her. Ororo was more than surprised, she was shocked and quickly becoming upset. She hardly knew what to say to him, she was still registering his presence.

"Nathan, what are you doing here? How did you know I was here? You—"

"You didn't answer me," he cut across firmly. Ororo just looked at him and slowly shook her head, eyes wide. He was serious?

Logan's chair scraped the ground as he pushed back in his seat and stood. "Look bub, I don't know who you are but you need go. 'Ro doesn't seem to be pleased with yer company." Ororo heard the warning in his tone instantly, and stood to her feet.

Nathan slowly turned towards Logan and lifted a brown brow. "Are you the one she's seeing?" he asked again. Nathan scoffed. "You must be."

Logan shifted on his feet and Ororo placed a placating hand on his immense arm. Her gaze shifted to Remy who was still on the phone but his sharp eyes were fixed in their direction. They found Ororo's and she could see the confusion mirrored in his own.

"Nathan, this is unacceptable. I—"

"_**You**_ still haven't answered me!" Nathan's raised tone caused several pairs of curious eyes to peer in their direction and gasp in surprise. Nathan shoved a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. "God, I'm sorry, Ororo. Just please - - I want to talk with you." He reached out a hand to grab Ororo's arm and Ororo drew back just as Logan caught his hand mid-reach and stared at Nathan with hard eyes.

"The hell do ya think yer doin'?" Logan growled.

Nathan swallowed hard at the sound and shrunk immediately. "Sorry. I - - uh - - sorry." Logan's grip tightened on his wrist and Nathan winced lightly.

"Logan." Logan looked at Ororo and she nodded slowly. He glanced back at Nathan one more time, before shoving the hand away from him and Nathan stumbled backwards with the force of it.

He rubbed absently at his reddened wrist as he caught movement of another man swiftly moving towards their direction. He locked eyes with Ororo once more and pointed a finger at her. "You owe me an explanation, Ororo and I look forward to hearing it."

At his parting words, Nathan turned on his heel and strode away heavily, both Ororo and Logan watching him until he'd disappeared from their view.

Ororo sighed loudly and pinched the bridge of her nose. "You alright, 'Ro?" Logan asked. She nodded, rubbing her hand over her face. "Yes, Logan. Thank you." He nodded. "Who was that guy?" he gestured in the direction Nathan had gone. Just then Remy returned to the table immediately going over to Ororo, echoing Logan.

"Who was dat guy?"

Ororo saw Remy was confused, a bit concerned, but plainly angry. Ororo squeezed his hand reassuringly and let go. "That was Nathan."

Remy frowned, his lips tightening into a thin line. "Why was he here? Did I see him try t' grab you?" he asked, voice raised higher than normal.

"It's alright. I'm okay. Logan handled it, no reason to fret—all right?" She tried to affirmed them calmly. But she was confused and angry too. To her Nathan had quickly become an unexpected nuisance. "I do not know why he was here, but all is well."

"He thought I was with, 'Ro, Gumbo," Logan supplied. "Seemed upset about it too." Remy turned to Ororo for confirmation. She nodded.

"He wanted to know who she was with."

Remy's mouth fell and Ororo closed her eyes and exhaled through her mouth. Remy cursed under his breath. "I t'ink I need t' talk wit' dis homme. He wants t' kno' who 'Ro's wit den he can find out." Remy handed Logan back his phone and turned to Ororo. "Does he work today?"

"I do not know, Remy, but—"

"He tried t' put his hands on y', 'Roro," Remy exclaimed. Ororo touched his arm and searched out his eyes. "I know, Remy," she agreed softly, "but he didn't and he apologized. I'll speak to him and let him know he's never to behave that way again. I'll even speak with Mr. and Mrs. Summers about it," Ororo added, hoping it helped. She knew what would happen if Remy confronted Nathan. It needn't go that far.

"Anyways, I think Mr. Howlett here set him straight enough, yeah?" Ororo laughed nervously, trying to diffuse the potential for trouble—ease the tension.

Remy nodded towards Logan. "T'anks, mon ami." Logan smiled, sharp white teeth gleaming in a dark grin. "It's what I do." Remy smiled and Ororo shook her head, drawing in a deep breath. Some of the tension left her shoulders with the action and she pulled Remy to her and clutched him securely. An 'it's okay please don't make anymore trouble' sort of hug. Arms enlaced her firmly and he pushed back her hair to kiss her on the place between her neck and shoulder. Ororo shivered a little.

This time _**all **_the tension left her body.

Remy felt it. He murmured into her ear. "Let's hurry and finish breakfast so we can go home, non? Make some mo' heat lightenin' . . ."

Translations:

Je t'aime = I love you

Ma coeur … je t'adore = My heart … I adore you


	30. Chapter 30:  Part One

**Author's Note**: Fairly short update. Chapter will be split into two parts. The second part should be up within a few days to a week. Again, sorry about the long wait between updates. Only 3 or so chapters to go before it's finished :D Please forgive any errors (too lazy to edit) & thank you all for reading :D

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- 30 -

It was times like this that Ororo really missed Jean.

Jean would have loved to have been there, helping her primp for the event. She'd have made sure Ororo's hair was perfect, that she had on enough blush, that her dress wasn't twisted more to one side than the other.

But Jean wasn't there.

So Ororo was left to fix her own hair, put on her own blush. In hindsight Ororo knew she should have asked Katherine. Katherine would have probably jumped at the opportunity. But Ororo _**hadn't **_asked Katherine, and now it was too late. It was just her and her nerves now as she dressed for the party.

Alone.

Ororo drummed freshly manicured acrylic nails idly as she studied her reflection in the vanity mirror she sat before. Her mouth twisted as she tossed her head this way and that, pursing her lips as she perused her face in the mirror. She didn't want to toot her own horn but her makeup really was flawless. Rosy cheeks, full lips glossed in a deep plum, and perfectly placed individual lashes just to add a hint of the dramatic to her already long lashes, creating more thickness.

Ororo eyes flashed to the clock on her nightstand. Remy would be there in a hour and a half. Then blue eyes shot up to the large pink rollers in her hair. She hoped that hour and a half would be enough — her hair proved to be a formidable opponent sometimes. Ororo rose from the vanity seat and strode over to the waiting dress hanging by a hook on the inside of her closet door, fingering it gently. It really was beautiful — the dress. It was just like Emma to have bought her a white gown. Since Ororo had known Emma she couldn't recall seeing the woman wear any other color other than her signature white.

Ororo blew out a breath and sat back down at her vanity staring unseeingly at her toes, intentionally wiggling them around so the light bounded off the shiny surface of them. Ororo wasn't much of a drinker, but if she had had some wine in the house, she most certainly would have had a glass — knock the edge of the nervous feeling in her gut.

What would Remy's father think of her? What could she expect tonight?

Probably all pointless things to worry about, Ororo knew, but didn't most people worry about things that never came? Meaningless things?

_Oh, Jean. _

Ororo had called Jean earlier, just before getting dressed but hadn't been able to reach her. She'd left Jean a message though, telling her how much she missed her and how she would be sure to send both her and Charles oodles of pictures when she had a chance. Maybe have some framed and bring them when she came up in a few weeks. Ororo smiled at that. She'd be home in a few weeks. Back with her family — Charles and Jean.

And Remy.

The joy the thought brought was enough to make her square and shoulders and strengthen her resolve to put her best face forward tonight. Show Jean-Luc that his son had good judgment and make Remy proud that she was on his arm. Ororo smiled and plucked the dress of its hook with a flourish.

Time was a wasting.

* * *

He was early, he knew, but it usually took women a lot longer to get all dolled up anyway so Remy figured he'd just wait for her in her living room. He nodded and smiled at Mr. Laborteaux, Ororo's lobby man as he strode towards the elevators.

"Lookin' very sharp tonight, Mr. LeBeau. Very sharp indeed," the elderly man complimented with a salute and a smile.

"Ah, t'ank you, mon ami. Wha' can I say, eh?" Remy grinned, tugging at his bowtie with a wink. "So, wha' y' t'ink mon ami . . . y' t'ink she be ready when I go up dere?"

Mr. Laborteaux waved dismissively. "Ha, not even close," he laughed, his chuckle gravely and deep.

Remy joined in the laughter. "Yeah, dat's wha' I was t'inkin' too," he joked as he pushed the button to Ororo's floor.

"We'll be down soon," Remy called back over his shoulder, stepping through the elevator doors.

"Will do, Mr. LeBeau."

Remy fixed his cufflinks as he rode the elevator to Ororo's floor. He could barely contain his excitement. Thoughts of a gorgeous Ororo dressed to impress, on his arm — tonight in front of New Orleans crème de le crème, meeting his father . . .

Remy bounded out the elevator as it *dinged* to signify his arrival on her floor. Remy pulled out his newly acquired key and opened the door, turning to close it before he called out her name.

"'Roro?"

* * *

Inside Ororo paused, the deft fingers around the roller in her hair stilling immediately. Someone had called her name. Ororo carefully listened for it again.

"'Roro? 'Roro it's Remy."

Ororo flew out the bathroom and up against the closed door of her bedroom.

"Remy?" she called from the other side. Ororo glanced back over her shoulder at the clock. "Babe, your early," she informed him, her voice muffled through the door.

"Yeah, I kno'. Remy couldn' wait. T'ought I'd wait fo' y' out here, non?"

"O - okay," she stammered. "I'll, um, I'll be out soon. I won't be long — promise."

"S' okay, petite. Remy kno' how y' femmes are," he teased as he plopped down onto her sofa.

"Ha ha. Sexist . . ." Ororo grumbled under her breath.

Remy laughed and clicked on the television set, further settling into the pliant cushions.

"_Be out soon." _

Ha_. _He highly doubted it.

* * *

Remy had sat through an entire episode of "Bonanza" and Ororo still hadn't came out yet. Remy shook his head and mumbled something about 'femmes' when he heard a door creaking open slowly in the hallway and the clicking of high heels against the polished wood floor. Remy dropped the remote and sat up straight, his heart pounding anxiously in his chest as he heard the *clicks* drawing nearer. Remy stood slowly just as she appeared through the entry and directly in his line of vision.

* * *

One hand was clasped around a small white clutch in her palm while the other rubbed nervously down the side of her dress. The vision was all white gown, sparkling embellishments and shimmering coffee skin. Remy's dark gaze traveled from the sparkling high-heeled sandals on her feet, up the endless column of her leg where the gown split at her thigh exposing smooth brown flesh. From his observation, it appeared Ororo had been poured into the glamorous gown—the material draping sweetly over her curving hips. The bodice of the gown was fitted like a corset, making her generous cleavage bunch modestly at the top of where it curved like a heart over her breasts. The bottom flared out and around her ankles with a slight train feathered behind her—the flare having been combined with a royal blue silk that melded around the bottom of the dress, intertwining with the train. She wore a thin silver necklace with a small, clear sapphire dangling at the end that nearly dove into the hill of shimmering mocha cleavage. Chandelier earrings dangled from her ears with matching sapphire accents that competed beautifully with her sparkling blue eyes. The front of her hair was pulled back and pinned into a bouffant while the rest of the long white mass hung in large barrel curls that tumbled down around her hips.

She was an angel. No—a goddess. Resplendent and brilliant. Remy had always felt Ororo had an otherworldly appearance to her — her brown skin, glowing white hair, and infinite blue eyes with their dark narrowed slits making her seem like an imaginary creature who had came from some abstract realm in the heavenlies, but tonight—tonight she looked even more so like that wonderful being he always imagined.

Whereas people had always told him he looked more like a creature that belonged somewhere below because of his eyes, Ororo looked like just the antithesis.

Quite a pair they made . . .

Ororo beamed at Remy who was directly staring at her, his mouth parted in an awed expression. Ororo's eyes drank in the smooth dark suit he wore, the fresh hair cut—Remy was unequivocally the most desirable man Ororo had ever encountered, so handsome it seemed he had been dreamed up.

And it was **_she _**that had done the dreaming.

"God, Remy." Ororo's eyes glistened with wetness as she looked him over appreciatively. "Your . . . I ca—" Ororo closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and started over. "You are the handsomest man I have ever laid eyes."

Remy finally drug his bulging eyes back up to Ororo's doting face and swallowed hard. "T'ank - ahem - t'ank y', chère." Ororo's smile widened and she nodded wordlessly.

"Remy don' - I don' t'ink I have de words t' describe y', belle. Not'ing t' do y' justice . . . I've never seen anyt'ing like y' befo'." Ororo's smile dropped as she noted the earnest intensity in his face, his eyes. It was the first time she'd noticed he was sans his concealing eye contacts and the unveiled fire in red eyes made her shiver. Remy noticed it and immediately locked eyes with her, holding her gaze. Ororo's breath caught and she swore her heart would stop.

The look he gave her was so powerful, Ororo's eyes grew misty and she had to drop her head to end the contact. "Remy," she uttered breathlessly. She was on the verge of tears and she knew it, her voice breaking slightly as she uttered his name.

Ororo heard his light steps before she felt his fingers on her chin, dragging her face up to meet those haunting dark eyes. It was too much—all of it. The feeling that he was somehow gazing into her soul. She'd almost pulled out of his grasp until she felt the soft press of his lips on hers—so light and gentle that Ororo sighed deeply and her eyelids fluttered. Blood rushed to her head, giving her a mild case of dizziness. Remy withdrew his lips and pulled at the nape of her neck, bringing their foreheads together.

Remy clutched at her, trying desperately to keep his racing heart—full of emotions—under control, from pounding so hard. But she was so remarkable, so unbelievable—the love he felt beyond anything he'd ever known. Without her intervention, Remy was sure he would have stood there with her forever.

"Remy. My love, are you all right."

Remy pulled back and searched her face, his eyes roaming all over the ethereal planes of her visage.

"_My love . . ."_

Ororo watched him warily, her head quirking to the side, her earrings dangling and catching the light so that it shined on his face. "Remy?"

He smiled as her tentative voice broke through his haze. The gesture brightening his whole face. Ororo sighed then and smiled, wiping the faintest smear of lip gloss from his lips. Remy captured her hand, holding it as he kissed it softly and brought it down between them.

"Are you all right, Remy?" Ororo prodded gently.

"Oui, ma belle, Remy's fine. Jus'—" he shook his head. What words could describe how he was feeling right now. None.

So he didn't try.

He just placed his hand firmly within her own and started towards the door.

* * *

If the night had just consisted of Ororo 'cozied' up to Remy in the back of the limousine Ororo would have been more than satisfied. All nervous thoughts and anxiety taking a back seat when Remy's warmth surrounded her from all angles—her proximity to him lulling her into a state of serenity and satiation.

But the boisterous clamoring and incessant brightness of flashing bulbs rudely brought back her awareness. Ororo's eyes mirrored a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming semi as she watched photographers shouting and calling out from behind velvet ropes, finely dressed attendants like her and Remy strolling down the carpeted pathway towards the entrance, waving airily with smiles on their faces.

The whole setup looked more like a red carpet event in Hollywood instead of a politician's mere birthday celebration.

"Y' ready, ma chère?" Remy asked, his grip tightening further in her hand. Ororo glanced at him and chanced a grin, nodding her assurance while countering with a firm grip of her own. Strangely enough, Remy did not seem to perturbed by the organized chaos in the slightest. He led her down the thick carpet boldly, smiling, waving and stopping for photo ops as though he had done it numerous times before. So Ororo did her best to follow suit—smiling and waving just like the charming man at her side.

To Ororo, as uncanny as it seemed, every light and camera had focused on her and Remy the moment they began their stroll towards the buildings entrance. So many lights—the brightness, the flashing . . .

Above the cacophony Ororo heard several shouts of: "Mr. LeBeau, Mr. LeBeau! Over here!"

Ororo pressed in closer to Remy and whispered loudly in his ear. "Remy, what is all this? All this for the governor's birthday?"

Remy smiled and turned into her. "De governor supposedly has a lot o' celebrity friends, chère. Many o' dem in attendance t'night. He's kinda like a celebrity 'imself," Remy chuckled.

"So I see," Ororo added.

Remy laughed at the awed expression Ororo wore.

"They're calling your name. They know you," Ororo stated. "Is your father a bit of a celebrity too?"

Remy shrugged nonchalantly and gave her a wink. "De mayor's son is a mutant. Kinda creates a stir, non?" Remy glanced at several photographers who were snapping shots of Ororo and calling out to her—the stunningly gorgeous statuesque goddess on the arm of Mayor Jean-Luc LeBeau's son.

". . . An' apparently so does a beautiful, white-haired femme," Remy teased.

Ororo shook her head at him, surprised by the several people who were shouting out to her. Remy took Ororo's moment of distraction to dive in and kiss her square on the lips. A small fleeting kiss, but in front of all the lights, cameras, and people it felt like forever.

The shouts to Ororo and Remy grew even louder at the display and Remy—feeling smug and amused—ignored the horror on Ororo's face and pulled her along as they strode towards the ballroom entrance.

* * *

The ballroom holding the event was large and ornately decorated for the occasion. Brilliant sparkling chandeliers hung high above the room, numerous tables draped in fine linen bordered the large marble floor strategically located in the center of the room for dancing. All was bright and elegant, the patrons all decked in their fine garments for the formal occasion - expensive tailored tuxedos and sweeping dresses.

Ororo was stunned into silence as she absorbed it all. Everything was unbelievably beautiful.

"Wha' y' t'ink, chère?" Remy asked, amused by her obvious appreciation at what she saw.

"I … well I think I am very indebted to you for inviting me, Remy. This is beautiful."

Ororo smiled at him, a broad joyful smile that showcased perfect white teeth and made the whole area around them seem brighter.

Dear God, she was beautiful. Incomprehensively so. It made him ache inside. Remy returned her smile and leaned in to take her lips softly.

Bewitching. The woman was nothing short of bewitching.

"I'm glad t' have y' here wit' me, 'Roro. Y' de most beautiful t'ing in dis room an' yet y' here wit' me. Y' mine. I couldn' ask fo' mo den dat," he told her, words true and from the heart. "An' I intend t' have all o' y' tonight, Ororo. Tonight it's gon' be me an' you," he intoned lowly, so low Ororo shuddered as the words brushed by her ears. His meaning only too clear. Ororo swallowed and smiled weakly, charmed and seduced by his presence and his words. A racing heart and throbbing pulse all her body's responses to Remy and her affection for him.

Her love for him.

"C'mon, ma belle." He smiled at her and nodded towards the festivities taking place. "Let's enjoy de party."


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's** **Note**: Sorry for the delay. I wasn't happy with this update, but I didn't want to prolong updating any longer. I didn't intend for this chapter to be split into three parts, but I wanted the next part to feel separate from this one. I can't tell you all how much I appreciate you all sticking with me :D I hope I can make it up to you all with this next story I'm writing. Please forgive any errors & thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter :D  
(This chapter was edited after posting so there is a small change for those who read this before the edit :)

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**- 30: Part Two -**

Her smiles weren't fake, neither was all her hearty laughter. The sincere sense of enjoyment and fun she was having with Remy was completely genuine and Ororo welcomed it all with surprising enthusiasm. All the local politicians knew Remy so when they came up to greet him, their eyes would immediately shift to Ororo—a curious twinkling always followed . . . and the occasional leer.

"What modeling agency are you signed with?"

"Are you a model?"

"Would like to model?"

The latter question was always followed with a business card being offered to her, in which, Ororo would smile politely and after they'd gone, would be dropped carelessly into her clutch.

Remy kept a firm hold on Ororo throughout the night. Not to be possessive, he reasoned to himself. Just a little display to discourage the multitude of vultures (young and old) from entertaining the thoughts Remy knew they were having about the literal 'beauty' on his arm. The predatory looks on their faces spoke volumes. Wherever Ororo ventured, she didn't venture alone.

He had learned his lesson earlier that night. When Ororo had been drawn away by an elderly woman who just had to show Ororo to her elderly friends – to ask them if they'd ever seen anyone so 'exotic' the old woman had termed. Remy nodded and with a reluctant smile Ororo was off to be appraised. When she'd failed to return several minutes later, Remy went in search of her only to find her 'accosted' (at least in his eyes) in a corner by two eager American Eagle model rejects and one _**friendly **_old man whose hand on her back seemed to want to inch lower and lower.

Needless to say, Remy hadn't left her side since. Even after they'd danced and she'd gone off in search of a drink. Even after their _**second **_dance and she'd needed to use the restroom.

Amongst the idle chatter, Remy's phone started to buzz in his pocket. The phone ringing first then vibrating as a last resort in hopes that the owner would pick it up. He hadn't even heard it for the din of noise surrounding him. Remy pulled it out and glanced at the screen, Ororo watched as a slow smile spread across his face just before he stuck it back in his pocket and rested his eyes on her.

Remy grabbed her hand and Ororo looked at him curiously.

"Come on, ma belle," he said. "Père's here. It's time."

Ororo gulped.

* * *

Mayor Jean-Luc LeBeau wasn't hard to find, seating at the largest table in the forefront of the spacious room where all the 'important' people were sitting. He was seemingly engaged in a conversation with several other important people when Remy walked up with Ororo, his hand in hers. Jean-Luc looked up at the approach of his son and the stunning woman who came alongside him. He knew he she was instantly.

Jean-Luc immediately broke out into a broad smile, his brown eyes dancing at the sight of his son and whom he presumed to be Ororo, his son's girlfriend. Jean-Luc rounded the table, never taking his off the couple and embraced Remy warmly.

"Mon fils," he greeted Remy.

"Père."

Ororo watched father and son hug, Jean-Luc patting Remy heartily on the back with a smile on his face stretching widely from ear to ear. Ororo silently noted the his father's features. The man before her was clearly an older version of Remy - slight creases around his eyes and the light dusting of hoary hair amidst the familiar auburn the only telling signs he was mid-age. He was an inch or two shorter than Remy and only slightly heavier from Ororo's estimation. But his presence was immediately commanding like that of an important man — like the politician he was — and also was openly handsome, with distinguished, masculine features just a bit harder than Remy's own.

Ororo missed the knowing exchange between Remy and his father as Jean-Luc glanced between Remy and Ororo. He looked back at his oldest boy with a wowed expression on his face and Remy just chuckled and nodded in wordless agreement — the communication between them clear.

The woman was unbelievably gorgeous. Ororo.

"Chère . . ." Remy cleared his throat and placed his hand on the small of her back. Ororo turned herself fully towards the two men and smiled warmly as Remy began the introduction.

"Chèrie, dis is my father," he gestured formally, "Mayor Jean-Luc LeBeau. "Père, dis is Dr. Ororo Munroe."

Both Ororo and Jean-Luc stepped forward at once and greeted each other with a friendly handshake.

"Gracious," Ororo gushed, clasping his hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you Mayor LeBeau — truly an honor."

The kind embrace he gave Ororo next was unexpected and Ororo made a small 'oh' sound at the unexpected contact. Remy chuckled and Ororo simply grinned and returned the gesture as much as she dared, not wanting to invade his personal space - at least anymore than she already was.

"Likewise, Dr. Munroe," he said in a slight Cajun drawl. "My, my . . . I've been waitin' on this for some time now Ms. Munroe," he grinned.

Ororo's eyes dropped in modesty.

"Thank you, Mr. Mayor. And please, do call me, Ororo".

"Well then, _**Ororo**_, please call me Jean-Luc . . . or père, non?" he said, only half-jokingly.

Ororo's brows shot up, a shocked expression coming over her face. The two men laughed aloud with each other in seeing it, leaving Ororo to shake her head with mild amusement as both father and son enjoyed a laugh at her expense. Ororo began breathing a little easier.

_So far, so good._

"I, uh, I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you both earlier," Jean-Luc said by way of an apology. "My meeting prior to this ran long and —"

"S'okay, père," remarked Remy.

Jean-Luc nodded at his son and turned, focusing his attentions on Ororo.

"Sooo, I deem you are enjoying yourself, non?" Jean-Luc directed towards Ororo with a questioning a quirk of his brow.

"O-oh, yes." Ororo laughed a bit nervously, clearing her throat. "I've been having a fabulous time — meeting everyone. Everything is quite beautiful; I thank you for inviting me."

"No need to thank me, Miss Ororo," he waved dismissively. "It's a shame we didn't meet sooner; I've been anticipating meeting the woman who my son here has been so taken with." He clapped Remy on the shoulder.

Ororo glanced at Remy as if seeking confirmation that it was true — that he was taken with her, so much so that it had even piqued the curiosity of his father. His smoldering gaze staring back at her was Ororo's answer. Remy's eyes were alive, telling. It was a look galvanizing enough to almost make her swoon, right in the presence of his father.

Jean-Luc looked between his son and the woman before him and laughed to himself.

Remy was gone.

She was gone.

They both were gone. In the eyes, it was.

Jean-Luc stood between them, his heart swelling with pride and happiness for his son. It seemed just when he and Logan had been most concerned for Remy, in dropped this woman who obviously was having much more of an impact on Remy than even he was probably aware of himself; her either.

The woman had a nurturing aura about her and a grace that he could clearly see wasn't practiced but came naturally to her. And she was stunning, breathtaking. In all his years he'd never seen anyone — man or woman — with features as exotic as hers. Being Remy's father, Jean-Luc had seen countless women in the company of his son, and none ever ceased to be very attractive women. But this one . . .

Quite simply, she broke the mold.

"Miss Ororo, I certainly hope you will give me the honor of a dance after we've had dinner?" he requested with a slight bow of his head. Ororo smirked at the gesture; it was evident to her where Remy got his charm. Ororo nodded and grinned, "It would be my pleasure."

"Good. In that case mademoiselle, let us eat so that I may get that dance, eh?" he winked. "I do wish to talk further, oh, and you must meet the governor . . ."

Ororo's eyes lit up.

* * *

From the looks of things, Remy figured he'd have her on the floor all night. His father moved like a man half his age. And from the all the laughing and smiling Ororo was doing as she swayed with Jean-Luc on the dance floor, his father was doing a swell job of charming her as well.

Ororo, on the other hand, thanked God for the Dr. Scholl's pads lining her heels. Jean-Luc was a spry and lively dancer and as tiring as it was, she was enjoying the challenge of keep pace with him. Ororo peeked across the way at Remy who watched them with a grin on his face and a gleam in his eye. She smiled at him and he raised his glass in a salute to the two.

"You are a fine dancer, Mr. LeBeau," Ororo complimented once their dance had ended. He smiled at her and straightened the bowtie atop his chest, running a hand through thick auburn hair in a gesture reminiscent of Remy.

"Thank you, Miss Munroe. You know, you dance quite gracefully."

"Well, I guess with your skill and my grace we, uh, put on quite a show," Ororo murmured shyly as she looked around at the several couples who had stopped and begun applauding the two as the music ended. Jean-Luc laughed and took one of Ororo's hands, Jean-Luc bowing graciously and Ororo playfully curtseying towards their impromptu audience.

The crowd parted a little and Ororo saw Remy making his way towards them, clapping slowly. Ororo smirked at him and shook her head.

"Ah, very impressionant, ma belle."

"Why, thank you. I had a great partner."

Ororo winked at Jean-Luc and squeezed his arm affectionately. Jean-Luc inclined his head towards her and took her hand once more, laying a gentlemanly kiss to her knuckles.

Ororo laughed and curtseyed again.

"Aww, mon Dieu," said Remy, rolling his eyes at them both for their antics.

"Learn from your old man, my son," Jean-Luc said, clapping Remy on the back. Remy rolled his eyes again and his father grinned at him.

"Y' all tired out, chère?" Remy asked, noting Ororo's lightly flushed face and heaving bosom.

"No, not at all. Actually, I think I may want to dance some more." Remy's eyes lifted from her chest, which had distracted him momentarily, up to Ororo who was smiling like the Cheshire cat.

"Really?" he asked astonished.

"Of course. If it's alright . . ."

"Sure, sure, it's alright. Anyt'ing y' want, chèrie."

Ororo squealed her delight. "Okay, well, I'm going to go grab some water and then I'll be right back. Then whichever one of you feels up to it can be my dance partner," Ororo teased with a sly grin.

Jean-Luc laughed and Remy smirked. "Go on, girl," he said, smacking her rear none too discreetly.

"Ah, Remy!" Ororo cried, but the laughter in her voice belied her false sense of indignation and she walked away grumbling to herself and shaking her head.

"She's somet'ing ain't she père," Remy asked under his breath while watching Ororo as she walked away.

Jean-Luc came up to his son and squeezed his shoulder.

"I think so son, she's quite a femme. I'm proud of you – an' I'm happy for ya both."

"Yeah . . . t'ank you, père. She's been havin' a lot o' fun t'night. I can' tell. She was real nervous at first, y' kno'."

Jean-Luc's face scrunched in confusion. "Yeah? That so?"

"Mm-hmm."

Jean-Luc was thoughtful a few moments before he began chuckling.

"Well, it looks like she certainly got out of that quick."

Remy nodded in agreement.

"Son?" Jean-Luc spoke up after awhile.

Remy turned towards his father at the seriousness in his tone.

"Oui?"

Jean-Luc caught his eye and grinned slowly.

"I—"

His father laughed and nodded to himself.

"Wha', père?" Remy asked, confused by his father's reticence.

Jean-Luc looked back up at him.

"Well . . . I . . ." he sighed and rattled off in a rush, "that femme, she loves you boy."

Remy swallowed and fell silent, eyes never wavering from his father's.

"You know that, non?"

". . . I—" Remy began hesitantly.

Jean-Luc waited for his son to continue, smiling patiently at him, encouragingly.

"It's there . . . in her eyes, garcon," Jean-Luc continued softly when Remy failed to materialize his thoughts. He watched his son's face begin to break into a slow smile, looking as if he had just realized or discovered something within that moment. Jean-Luc saw it and smiled too, immediately leaning forward to embrace his son in a voiceless understanding.

"Père?" Remy said against his dad's shoulder.

"Son?"

Jean pulled back to look in his son's face. Remy's head dropped slightly and he chuckled, a low deep rumble in his chest. Finally, he looked up at his dad at caught his father's wary gaze.

His mouth twisted into a smile.

"I t'ink it's in my eyes too."

* * *

"Thank you."

Ororo smiled at the woman after she'd handed her the glass of water. Ororo stopped just for a moment to take a healthy swig of the water and sighed appreciatively at the refreshing coolness of it sliding down her parched throat. She turned from the bar only bump into a hard chest and slosh water onto the front of her dress.

"Oh!" she exclaimed when the cold water hit her, large hands that belonged to the human wall she had ran into dutifully reached out to steady her.

"Gee, I am sorry," she began to apologize, "I didn't know someone was behind me—" Ororo trailed off when she looked up into the face of the man-wall she had just collided into.

_Oh . . . No. _

Nathan.

"Ororo."

He was smiling. He actually held the gall to smile — at her. And saying her name, greeting her like it was another day at the office. Literally. And . . . he was wearing a tux?

Ororo shook her head back and forth slowly in disbelief. "No, Nathan, no."

"What?" he laughed. Nathan plucked the glass from her and leaned forward to set it on the counter behind her, his proximity way too close for comfort — particularly in this situation. Ororo stepped back, away from him, until her back was pressed against the edge of the counter.

Ororo's heart hammered. His behavior had gotten increasingly worse. The phone calls, the prying questions, his appearance at breakfast that one morning, but this . . . how had he even gotten in?

Ororo straightened up and met his eyes dead on. "Nathan, no, don't laugh. What are you doing here?"

His smile faltered, but only for a second. "Ororo," his eyes drifted up and down her form before continuing. "You look . . . your stunning . . . how beautiful you look tonight."

Ororo sighed and looked over Nathan's shoulder. What she wouldn't give at the moment to see Remy making his way to her side. Not that she was scared — no, she wasn't scared. But she still wanted Remy, no less.

"Nathan, stop," Ororo urged. Her blue eyes narrowed in on him, honest confusion inflected in her tone.

"Why are you doing this Nathan? I-I don't understand you."

He stepped towards her and Ororo's first reaction was to flinch, but she forced herself not to, only to stand still and appear as unaffected as possible. Remain calm.

Nathan sighed this time and shoved a hand through his hair, looking as if he was fighting with an answer himself.

"Okay, alright," he breathed, "Look, I'll explain. Come with me and I'll explain."

"Don't think so, Nathan," Ororo clipped.

"Why not, Ororo?"

"Because this has gone too far." Ororo willfully kept her voice level but strong. "Dr. Summers spoke to you about this. You talked with her. I thought we were all clear from that point on."

"We are. But there are things we haven't discussed."

Ororo balked. "Such as?"

Nathan's face firmed, darkened noticeably. Ororo swallowed.

"Maybe like what you were doing at breakfast with that guy? Why you've blown me off every time I've tried to spend time with you. What are you doing, Ororo?"

"What am I doing? !" Ororo's eyes stretched. "Nathan, you and I were friends. There are things I'm under no obligation to explain to you. But what you've been doing is wrong, and it's creepy. You are making trouble for everyone involved. Thing is, I don't understand why. "

"Since you arrived at Valhalla I've been trying to talk to you, Ororo. And I was patient," he explained. "After the blow-up with your fiancé I offered you an ear in hopes that you would take it and things would evolve. But you never took it, did you? What am I supposed to do? I'm doing what I have to."

"God, Nathan this is crazy!" Ororo hissed. "I've been seeing someone. I _**am**_ seeing someone. I didn't have the slightest clue you were interested in me until recently, when all this started happening," Ororo gestured with her hands. "It doesn't excuse you invading my privacy. We're colleagues. Your crossing lines, now."

Nathan scowled. "That didn't stop you and this, LeBeau now did it?" he said coolly. Ororo stilled, her expression blank.

"Yeah, he was the one that walked you to your car that day. A patient. Didn't think I knew? Well, I do," he spat. "I found out."

Ororo eyes looked around her warily and knew she had to end this conversation now. Get him out of there. This was all too much. What she was going to do next she didn't know, but right now she wanted out. Ororo was very ill at ease with what was taking place right before her.

"I owe you no explanation," Ororo began slowly.

"Like hell!"

Ororo jumped in shock and several people turned to look at them both with surprised stares.

Okay, that's it.

"I'm leaving," she muttered shakily. "I suggest you do the same, Nathan. It would be in your best interest . . ."

Ororo immediately sidestepped and began making her way in the direction towards Remy. She glanced back over her shoulder quickly, and saw Nathan stalking towards her, coming in close. Ororo quickened her pace as best she could — she felt him behind her first before she felt his hand close around her arm, dragging her off to the side, the outskirts of the large gathering, and reining her into him. He wasn't rough, but he was firm.

"Don't walk away from me, Ororo. Especially when I'm talking to you," he ground out near her ear.

Ororo grunted and tried to wiggle out of his grasp. Not wanting to scream out and cause a scene unnecessarily.

"Stop it, Ororo . . . stop." He held her tight against him, preventing her from struggling.

"No, Nathan! Let go."

"Why are you being this way, Ororo?" he pleaded, lips against her ear.

"Ugh," Ororo grumbled. "Nathan—"

"I just want you, Ororo. Doesn't that make you feel good? To know that?"

Ororo tried to turn her face while pulling away from him, pushing at his chest. Nathan cupped her chin firmly, squeezing her face and willfully bringing her back towards him.

"You danced with LeBeau and his father all night, but you don't want to be with me for a few measly minutes."

Ororo whimpered in his hold when he stumbled with her back towards a wall and crushed his lips against hers. Ororo tore away gasping.

"That's nice, isn't it?"

"Argh! Nathan, stop!"

Static was quickly building in the air.

Nathan smothered her protests with his hand, then his lips as he kissed her again.

"Ohh. Soft. Your lips . . . your so soft, Ororo," he panted.

A low peel of thunder rumbled in the distance.

Ororo's eyes began pooling with tears, when the sudden pressure of his body was gone instantly. Ororo opened her eyes and was filled with a vision of a seething Remy, eyes glowing like fiery embers.

Remy grabbed the back of Nathan's collar when he — to his immense horror— saw Nathan kissing and clutching at her forcefully in a secluded little corner in the grand room. Her cries of protests making his blood boil. The bewildered man hadn't even had time to process what was happening before a man's fist collided painfully with his face.

The pain was blinding as Nathan stumbled back unseeingly only to feel the same pain again, this time to the side of his face. He felt something dripping, wet and sticky on his chin and down his neck before he fell hard onto his rear. Remy proceeded to follow suite.

"Remy, please! He's had enough, babe, don't! It's alright."

_Ororo_.

"Come on, boy. She's right, that's enough."

Remy reluctantly released his clutch on the front of Nathan's shirt when he felt his father and Ororo pulling at him, petitioning him to cool down — that everything was fine.

Nathan groaned and writhed on the ground, clutching at his nose.

Remy's hard breathing began to subside and his father patted him on the arm, urging him to keep it moving.

"It is fine, Remy. Its fine," Ororo murmured softly, taking one of his hands and pulling him away from the groaning man on the floor. She wiped her watery eyes with her other hand.

"Merde, chère. Are y' all right?" Remy cupped her face and made her look at him, ensuring she was fine. Ororo placed her hands over his and gave a watery grin.

"Yes, Remy. I promise; I'm fine. Only shocked, that's all."

Ororo released a deep breath and kissed Remy's lips softly. Remy kissed her back and rubbed his hand over her hair. Remy vaguely heard his father talking to someone on what he guessed was his cell phone in the background.

The front of Ororo's dress was a little wet, and her eyes a bit red from unshed tears, but she appeared fine otherwise. Remy pulled at the dress, straightening it back as it was twisted to the side some, no doubt from the manhandling. His anger stirred at the thought.

A small group of spectators had formed to note the commotion, but were assured by security everything was fine. Two of them had picked up Nathan and proceeded in hauling him up and away.

"Miss Ororo," Jean-Luc sighed, "are you okay?"

"Thank you, yes." Ororo nodded. "I really am sorry about all of this."

"No need, Ororo. Though, I take it you knew that man." Ororo nodded again and Jean-Luc came over and squeezed one of her hands. Ororo smiled at him and squeezed back.

"'Roro," Remy turned to her. "Wha' happened?"


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's Note**: Gee whiz, I have been struggling in these latter chapters. Can't seem to find the time and when I do, it's all a jumble. So for the billionth time, please forgive me for the wait and thank you very much for reading and reviewing. And for all the kind Christmas/New Year's wishes. I love reading all the reviews you guys give. Ya'll are some funny people. I heart you guys! This chapter may be kinda hodge podged filler, but I wanted to post something. Two chapters left – enjoy. Muah :D

* * *

**30: Part Three / Chapter 31 **–

She was tired.

Unfortunately for Nathan, he would rest in a cell tonight. Fortunately for Ororo, she wouldn't. Unlike her colleague (and disturbed manhandler) Ororo planned to rest easy tonight, drift off into the land of dreams, and recoup after an entire night rife with enjoyment and just a little bit of drama.

Drama had been the reason Ororo had said no when asked if she wanted to press charges. She quite honestly did not want to deal with all something like that would entail, and according to Dr. Summers, who she phoned an hour or so after the incident, Nathan was looking at a long suspension — the board deciding when he'd return.

Annoying, perplexing, and perhaps crazy as he was, the man turned stalker was still a professional — a doctor. One whose career Ororo did not want to chip at, even over something likened to what had taken place tonight. Naturally, both LeBeau men had objected and promptly made their adverse opinions known to her.

"Are you sure, Ororo?"

"Yeah, petite, are y' sure?"

"If it was me—"

"He deserved mo' den he got!"

"That boy needs t' learn a lesson. How t' treat a lady for starters . . ."

"Père's right, chère. Y' a lot mo' merciful den I'd be."

"I tell ya," Jean-Luc started, "When _**I**_ was younger—"

So it went on like that for awhile — Remy protesting the decision, Jean-Luc waxing eloquent about the good ole days. When men treated women with decency and disputes were settled man to man — New Orleans style. The conversation came to a gentle halt when Ororo tentatively edged in. She deemed it to be necessary, once the father/son duo began a discussion about various other ways Nathan should have been punished — by their fists, mind you. The testosterone level had definitely surged after the 'incident' and apparently was still looking for a release. Ironically, it seemed Jean-Luc was more upset now than when the situation had initially occurred. Ororo had to laugh at that. At them. She liked to think that without her intervention, the way things were going, the men would have stomped down to the jail, found Nathan, and have initiated a brutal round two.

But if Nathan failed to learn his lesson tonight, than chances were, he never would. But that didn't concern her necessarily. What Ororo really wanted was to get Nathan on the couch in her office and uncover the man that he obviously had been hiding so well. Similarly, that had been Remy's sentiments as well. And he'd said as much on their way home.

"Y' know, hommes like him are always de ones. You'd never t'ink dat a guy like dat would be a fichu fou, 'specially a psychiatrist!"

His rambling was adorable. Ororo savored the moment and simply relaxed deep into her seat, letting her head loll to the side and watched him, watched and listened. He was still upset, that she could tell. But Ororo figured it was primarily because tonight had scared him, and that made her heart soar with appreciation — not Remy's fear, she never wanted him to fear anything, but was because of his concern towards her.

"I knew somet'ing was up when y' took so long coming back," he'd told her. "I was on my way t' y' even befo' I heard de thunder," he chuckled softly. Ororo playfully rolled her eyes at his subtle teasing and Remy smiled at her, flicking on the signal and merging smoothly into the right lane.

"I guess that's kind of like when that bottle of Scotch exploded in your hands that night with Jonathan, huh? At my 'engagement celebration'?" Ororo said, making quotes with her fingers. "Remember, Remy?"

He took his eyes off the road just long enough to shoot her a look from across the car and it was Ororo's turn to chuckle at her own subtle jab. Of course he'd remembered that night. The expression on Remy's face that night when he'd saw Jonathan up there with Ororo, how he had confronted her in the back office. Not to mention it being the first time he'd seen those crystal blue eyes turn hauntingly white with power, the tinkling sound of the ring when it hit the blacktop of the parking lot . . . though mostly Remy remembered how Ororo had felt when held her, out there in that cold rain, her trembling body warm despite the icy rain that soaked them both.

Personally, Remy deemed it the day that both he and she, finally had realized they were powerless to what was happening between them. He was sure Ororo felt that way about it as well. What had passed between them that night was so acute and so strong — there was no way she could not.

"Strolling down Memory Lane, love?"

Remy glanced over at Ororo's serene face at her soft interjection. She'd said it again. Did she know she was saying it? Conscious of it?

_"Love."_

Something told him she did.

"_It's in her eyes, garçon . . ." _his father'swords from earlier came back to him_. _A knowing smile stretched the Cajun's face.

Yeah, she loved him.

Remy took one hand from the wheel and reached over to grab one of hers.

And that was certainly all right with him.

* * *

"Hmm. From the looks of your hand Remy, I'd say you broke his nose. If not you were damned close to it." Ororo soaked the cloth with peroxide. "Tell me if I'm hurting you, all right?"

"Sure, chère."

Remy nodded and Ororo gave him a small smile and began cleaning the torn flesh on and around his knuckles. Ororo's eyes sought Remy's face ever so often, trying to note if he winced in pain or not, then they'd fall back to the task at hand.

"Here, let me go get the gauze and some bandages to wrap it. Be right back, Remy."

Ororo's bare feet made light pattering sounds on the carpet in the short distance from the sofa to the bathroom adjoining her room. Remy watched her walk away, distractedly removing his tuxedo jacket and tossing it over the arm of the love-seat.

"Say, where was your brother tonight, Remy?" he heard her ask from where she was inside the bathroom.

"Watchin' de bar, chèrie. Somebody had to."

He lifted his leg unto his knee and pried off the Italian made shoes.

"Oh. Shame he had to miss being there tonight."

Ororo appeared with gauze and bandage and reclaimed the spot beside him.

"Here, love, give me your hand."

Ororo gently took his hand and began dressing it, missing the sultry look he was giving across from her. Remy watched her as she wrapped his hand and his heart sped up in response. His sole awareness was focused on the glistening tumble of her loosened white hair, trailed decadently down her back, over her shoulders.

Jewelry gone, along with the subtle dusting of makeup she'd worn — effortlessly breathtaking. Achingly so. And it was decided then and there — he needed to have her . . .

Ororo had just hooked in the metal clip and stood with a triumphant, "There!" when Remy's hand was pressed at her back, the other coming around to cup at her nape . . .

_**Now.**_

His lips? Pleasantly fastened on her neck — where her pulse throbbed wildly. Throbbing all over.

Heated skin and a yielding body was all Remy was remotely aware of. That and his own heated body, molding into hers, hers molding into his. The woman was killing him with softness and warmth and the plushness of her mouth. Only now, in the ministrations of desire, did he question how he had lasted this long, without having her — in this way.

The pair both grunted softly on impact as Remy stumbled them both against the firm pressure of a wall, setting a gilded sconce sharply askew. The deep sound of Ororo's soft feminine grunt made Remy burn that much hotter and he yearned to hear it again and again, just for the sake of it. For now, her small grunts would be satisfactory, he reasoned, but later, he'd make sure to hear her moan, hear her scream, hear her speech warbled by unrestrained passion.

Remy grabbed two handfuls of her gown on either side and pulled, hitching up the garment to better situate himself between her legs. The Cajun wedged himself there firmly and was rewarded with a breathless moan sounding in his ears when he thrust hard betwixt her long limbs, lifting her slightly higher against the wall. He felt her heat, heard Ororo moan heatedly in response to him and huffed a rattled breath harshly against her neck. A ragged sounding rumble bubbling up from his chest.

Ororo's eyes rolled back in her head, hearing herself panting faintly. A surreal sound. Not hers only, but Remy's - his harsh breathing. Her soon-lover was making good on the promise he'd made her earlier tonight.

_"An' I intend t' have all o' y' tonight, Ororo . . ."_

Remy's hand found her ample chest just as his lips found her mouth.

"_Tonight it's gon' be me an' you . . ."_

He had promised. And now he was keeping his word.

He'd said all of her; him and her.

"Is-is it time, Remy?"

The statement — half question, half plead — fell harshly from her parted lips, uttered in feverish want. Remy recognized the tone, the feelings behind his were one in the same. Hearing the rawness it his Ororo's accented tone, made the blood in his veins pulse and pulse hard.

"Yes, chère," he groaned, hooking one sleek arm under the crook of her knee, the other encircling her waist. Ororo swiftly wrapped the other around Remy's hips. He blindly stumbled them into the opened bedroom, his hands tugging at her dress as soon as her back had hit the mattress.

They worked as a panting, eager team, recklessly removing clothing to get a glance at the others oh so coveted flesh. But Ororo won out. It was his she saw first, his that made her heart seem to cease its beating while she drank in the artful perfection of his body, his Ororo hungrily sat up to taste first. Remy's eyes fluttered under the pressure of Ororo's warm tongue on skin. Groaning with pleasure at the sensation of her tasting him. He was too aroused to be surprised by her lack of timidity. And even while she was exquisitely torturing Remy with her mouth, rendering him nearly speechless, the words spilled unfettered from his quivering lips.

"I love you, Ororo." Panting. Heaving. "Je t'aime beaucoup. Tellement. Votre beau, si beau à moi . . ."

Ororo stopped and slowly looked up at agonized lover. He leaned down towards Ororo, seeing her eyes had become teary - tender.

Then it was his turn to taste. His own scarlet eyes not teary, but aflame.

* * *

The Sunlight would've usually been filtering in through the slits between the closed blinds at this hour. The pale light exposing the miniscule dust fairies and shining down on the faces of whoever the occupants lying in bed were. But the overcast sky outside prevented it this morning, the tiniest raindrops pitter-pattering on the windows.

Ororo had sleepily assured him it was not because she was saddened or displeased. No emotions were meddling this time, causing the sky to be covered by its gray clouds. However, it _**was**_ the common after affects of the boisterous storm earlier, consequently caused by a woman's intimate night with her lover. It had started seconds after his embolden declaration of love, when the first tear had rolled out the corner of her eye.

And it didn't stop until _**they**_ did — the storm.

Remy snuggled closer into his naked lover's confines and closed his eyes, remembering how it had sounded just as she'd reached the peak of her ecstasy. So sweet.

"_Remy . . . Remy, I love you." Water in her blue eyes when they'd locked with his. "I love you. I love you." _

So, so sweet.

The sweetest thing he'd ever heard.

Remy exhaled lowly, and gently touched his lips to her nape, smelling the light scent of her tangled mop of hair. He again closed his eyes and savored the blissful feeling of being right where he was presently. That special, coveted place that he like to call: 'Beside Ororo.'

"Remy?"

His eyes napped open at the soft uttering of his name. Her back was still turned away from where he lay spooned behind her, with entangled legs. Her voice was half-muffled by her dense pillows. But he'd heard her clearly.

"Yeah, chère," he said just as softly. His tone satiated, contented.

"I **_do _**love you."

Remy kept silent, waiting to see if she'd say more.

"I . . . I say that to you for your benefit as well as mine," Ororo said, just as he himself made to speak. Sensing she wasn't done, Remy retained his patience and kept silent, but his ears and heart were attuned and attentive to whatever she desired to say.

"I . . . I have never truthfully spoken those words to anyone before this — before you. All except my father, but . . . well, you get my meaning."

Remy nodded, though she couldn't see it.

"And I've never had them truthfully spoken to me," she continued thoughtfully.

"Wha' 'bout, Forge?" he asked quietly.

Ororo shook her head softly. "He told me he did but . . . I don't really believe Jonathan could have done what he did and truly have loved me. I told him those words once before because I thought it was expected of me, but I didn't mean them anymore than he did."

Remy scooted up some and leaned over, taking her face and turning it towards him where his mouth met hers in a kiss.

Slow and soft.

Ororo smiled — a faint closed mouth grin — and ran her fingers through Remy's hanging auburn hair.

"Come, turn towards me, chère," he beckoned. She obediently came to him. His arms wrapped around her warm body when she faced him fully, her arms mirroring his own.

"If it makes y' feel betta, chère," he said, "I don' t'ink I've ever said dem t' someone truthfully either."

Ororo looked at him while he played with the ends of her hair. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I don' t'ink Anna an' I could've done de t'ings t' each other dat we did when we were t'gether an' have truly loved each other either," he explained, "I can look back an' say dat now."

Ororo grabbed one of his hands and laced their hands and fingers together, bringing them up in front of them. The one she'd bandaged — handling it delicately. Her lips fell to it, kissing it. "Perhaps we've both been given second chances," Ororo murmured quietly, eyes on their locked hands.

His lips were soft when they touched hers. "Ororo," he whispered. Ororo looked up at him. "It's de only one I'll ever need."

Ororo smiled and began tracing the faint smile on his lips with the tip of her finger. "And I'll love you the way she should have."

* * *

"Aw, man! I totally missed it," Henri whined good-naturedly while stacking chairs. Logan grunted in agreement and Remy chuckled, helping stack with Henri. The trio had spent the remainder of the afternoon closing, wiping down tables and countertops, stacking chairs, wiping clean glasses (all but the one Logan drank out of). And in that time, Remy had recounted the events the night of the gala. Of course, he kept the more 'intimate' events of that night to himself. It was the right thing to do, true, but that had never stopped him from before. He'd always detailed his many escapades with the boys over drinks. They all did. But with Ororo, he'd never have the heart. Not someone he cared about, more importantly, someone he loved. And it was that fact that made all the difference. Somethings were too precious to share.

"Knew he was trouble," Logan grumbled around a cigar stub, leaned back in a chair, legs crossed at the ankle. "I could—"

"You could smell it," the two brothers spoke in unison. Logan rolled his eyes at both of them. "Whatever," he griped, "I could."

Remy laughed and dug in his pockets fishing for a cig. Heaving himself up and taking a seat atop the bar with a sigh. Remy winced a little from the pressure on his still injured hand.

"How's yer hand healin' up?" Logan nodded towards the extremity in question.

"It's fine. Lil' sore but dat's t' be expected. 'Ro's been lookin' after it. Be fine in a couple days."

"Speakin' of yer lady love, Cajun, where is she?"

"Probably at home by now," Remy said while glancing at the watch on his wrist, "gettin' t'ings ready fo' de trip t' Baltimore, no doubt."

Logan nodded, exhaling a billow of smoke from his lungs. "All ready to meet daddy, Rem?" Henri teased, winking.

"I am as a mattah o' fact. Kinda excited, mon frère."

"Well, if 'Ro has any friends that are remotely as hot as her, be sure ya give 'em my number." Logan grinned slyly.

"Y' might jus' be in luck, mon ami. I've seen de pictures of 'Ro's friend, Jean."

Logan lowered the beer from his mouth, arching a rather bushy brow as if to say: "And?"

Remy chuckled and nodded positively. "De fille's a real looker."

"Hot damn!" Logan shouted.

"Hot as Ororo?" Henri asked eagerly.

Remy took a drag from the cigarette and smiled slowly, smoke escaping the corners of his mouth. "No one's hot as 'Roro."

Henri rolled his eyes, all three men sharing a laugh. Logan leaned forward and met Remy in a faux toast, beer mug to cigarette. "Touché."

Remy smirked, pondering to himself while he finished off the cigarette and crushed it in a nearby ashtray, blowing the last traces of smoke through his nostrils.

"I'm out," Remy quipped, hopping off the counter.

"Aye, where ya goin'?" Henri asked.

"Home."

"So soon, Gumbo?"

"Oui, it's gettin' late an' I still ain' started gettin' ready fo' de trip myself. Been lettin' 'Ro do all de work, I gotta get a move on," Remy explained while he collected his keys. "Henri," Remy turned towards his brother, "y' got everyt'ing handled here?"

"Sure, mon frère. I got it."

"A'ight den. I'll be seein' y' mon amis," Remy tossed behind his shoulder with a wave, the door closing on a gush of wind.

* * *

Ororo tapped her foot anxiously, drumming her nails on the table with intent eyes fixed on the door. Where in the love of God was the man? Ororo stared the door down, ears perked and waiting for the sure sounds of his arrival. How long had she been waiting? Certainly he should have been here by now.

So anxious was she, that when Ororo finally heard doorbell sound, she clumsy stubbed her toe on the leg of the coffee table when she made to come around it. Ignoring the sharp pain in her foot, Ororo hobbled to the door and flung it open.

"Aw, man," she groaned when she saw Remy at the door, who in turn, quirked his head at her amusingly as she stepped back and let him through. Her shoulders and head slumped in disappointment.

"Not de greetin' I was lookin' for, ma petite, but it's nice t' see y' t', bèbe." Ororo managed a chuckle and flung her arms around him in an embrace.

"Sorry, love. You know I am glad to see you, smart-aleck." She flicked his nose. Remy smiled and kissed the top of her head.

"But?"

"But I've been waiting for the delivery guy for over an hour now," Ororo gripped.

Remy laughed and set his keys and the bag he had in hand on the counter nearest the stove.

"I feel like I'm about to die of malnutrition." Ororo flopped down on the sofa with a loud huff.

"Well den," Remy spoke from the kitchen, "I'm sure y'll be glad t' see dis." He appeared from the kitchen in the doorway of the living room with a large container of cheesecake.

She sat up immediately. "Oh, Remy!" Ororo cried, eyes wide. Remy grunted and almost dropped the delectable treat when Ororo hopped up and wrapped long legs around him, kissing his face frantically all while uttering, "thankyou, thankyou, thankyou, thankyou," repeatedly between smooches.

He laughed, setting down the cake just long enough for his long arms to encircle her and take advantage of their fortuitous position. Tit for tat.

Remy hummed with approval, kissing along the column of her neck, hands running down to clutch at her thighs, bared by her hitched skirt and carried them to kitchen table where he promptly decided to have his desert early. He was implored all the more by her desperate little hiss of pleasure when his hands moved upwards towards a neglected breast.

"I . . . guess I can . . . have you while I wait . . . for dinner," she breathed between kisses, her hands fumbling with his belt.

"How hungry are y', 'Roro?"

She gasped, then growled lowly. Vaguely reminiscent of Logan.

"Very, very hungry, Remy."

***DING DONG!***

But alas.

Remy growled then laughed in frustration. Ororo groaned, hopping off the table to grab her wallet. She didn't even bother to arrange her twisted skirt, button the front of her top, or straightened her mussed hair. Remy laughed to himself and began fixing his clothes. He sat down and waited for her in the kitchen.

"Didn' eat no lunch t'day, chère?" he asked after they'd both sat down to eat.

"Uh-uh," Ororo mumbled around a buffalo wing, licking her hands of the sauce and ranch dressing. Remy smirked at her. "I had a lot to do today, trying to catch up on some things at work before we leave. I did it all during lunch, but I got the plane tickets and everything taken care of. All that's really left to do now is pack. "

"Are you alright with staying at dad's?" she asked after a few moments.

"No problem, chère," he nodded. Stretching over the table in pursuit of yet another breadstick.

"You're sure, Remy?"

"'Course, belle."

Ororo smiled. "Good."

"Don' really need t' ask but, are y' excited?"

"Absolutely," she gushed. "And I'm anxious. To see dad and Jean . . . and to find out what he's up to," she grinned. "I'm more than just a little curious about that."

More breadsticks.

"So, how are Henri and Logan? Did you tell them I said hello?"

Remy filled her in on the happenings of his best friend and brother while Ororo continued to decimate buffalo wing after buffalo wing, slice of pizza after slice of pizza. The breadsticks were gone.

"Dessert time," Ororo announced after sitting back and wiping her face with a flourish and a pleased smile. Remy smiled wickedly, leaning forward to capture her chair and pull her directly between his opened legs where he sat.

"Hmm, I agree."

* * *

Translations (Via Babelfish):

fichu fou = damn lunatic

Je t'aime beaucoup. Tellement. Votre beau, si beau à moi = I love you very much — so much. Your beautiful, so beautiful to me . . ."


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's Note: **Oh guys, your reviews had me so geeked when I read it :D I'm such a sucker for kind words. I really appreciate the sentiments. Thank you to everyone who kindly reviewed the last chapter. Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou. I'm grateful for you guys :D I had planned to make the last two chapters split into parts, but I nixed that idea. Something about this chapter irked me and it's basically filler, but I hope you guys don't mind too much :D Anywoo, enjoy =)

* * *

**- 32 **-

"Dey'll be a legal pad on my desk wit' all de contact numbers on it jus' in case o' anyt'ing. Schedules are all made up an' dere shouldn' be any packages dat come 'til I come back."

Henri (surprisingly) appeared attentive while his rambling older brother explained to him all the procedural information where they both sat on the bar stools. The younger LeBeau was noticeably competent and efficient when it came to managing the bar, despite his lack of seriousness when it came to other responsibilities in life. But no one was perfect. From the moment Henri had begun assisting Remy at The Guild—whether in his absence or just as a helping hand—he always left Remy with a strong impression that he took genuine pleasure in working the bar. Remy's brother had more than proven himself. After all, it had been Henri who had picked up Remy's slack all those months ago when Remy had lagged in caring for the bar.

Before Ororo.

It was one the reasons Remy was more than confident leaving Henri to handle things while he and Ororo were gone. And why he wasn't worried as much as he thought he should.

"C'mon, lemme show y' de spreadsheets on de computer."

Henri followed his older brother into the back office while the other employees spread out and prepared for opening. Quick last minute wipe downs of tables, straightening chairs. Henri shut the door on the whirring noise of the vacuum cleaner that had started up.

Two employees needlessly arranged bottles behind the counter, aimlessly fiddling around until the customers finally arrived while debating who _**really **_should have been disqualified on Dancing With the Stars. The first few patrons had just straggled in when Belladonna glanced up and saw Remy's girlfriend walk through the door. Bella watched Ororo's bright gaze glance around searchingly before taking a seat at a far corner table and pull out a cell phone. Bella continued working, hardly able to focus her tasks for studying Ororo.

Thing was, the situation with working at the bar had not gone the way Bella had originally planned. _**She **_had thrown a monkey wrench, toppling her plans like a house of cards. Putting in for the job at Remy's had been solely a means to an end. In her logic, working at his place would constantly keep her in his company, which in turn, would pave the way for them to "pick up where they'd left off"' so-to-speak - putting her in an ideal position to make a move. After the word had gotten around about Remy's split from that Anna chick, the perfect opportunity had presented itself to her.

Weren't people more susceptible when vulnerable? It was an advantageous situation all around. Unbeknowst to her, things had changed since the teenage years when she and Remy dated. And time gone by had her eager and hoping for another chance – another go.

Bella distractedly served a customer, staying one eye on the drink she poured (almost spilling it) and the woman who appeared to be texting over in the corner. Oblivious to Bella's intent eyes boring a hole through her from behind the bar.

Bella frowned.

Then _**she**_ had come along.

Now, LeBeau didn't spend half the amount of time in the bar she'd first assumed he would. It seemed Henri was always at the helm. Even more frustratingly, when Remy was there, he never spoke much more than the perfunctory greeting to her. 'Hello and goodbye', 'how's it going?', 'here's your paycheck', that kind of thing."

Not what she had in mind.

_So she's waitin' for him_, she mused to herself.

Belladonna Boudreaux scowled, a glint in her cobalt eyes. Devious.

"Aye, Lorna?"

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna go serve that woman over there. Take care of these guys for me right quick, okay?"

Bella wiped her hands on her apron, not waiting for a reply and headed in Ororo's direction.

Ororo conversed via text with Dr. McCoy while she waited for Remy, peeking up from the screen of her phone ever so often to see if he was on his way. She glanced at the digital display on the phone. They had time. She'd gotten there earlier than she'd anticipated after picking up several last minute items at the outlets before leaving. Toiletries, gifts for Charles and Jean, and of course – she'd needed a new outfit or two. When Ororo heard the brisk treading of feet coming towards her, she looked up – it wasn't Remy she saw.

"Well, hello there."

Ororo eyes drifted up to find Bella grinning down on her. Ororo forced a polite smile, inwardly groaning from the position she suddenly found herself in. Her last encounter with the blond hadn't been forgotten.

"Hello."

Remy's current waitress and ex-girlfriend tossed her yellow hair behind her before taking a seat directly opposite Ororo. As if she'd been called, invited.

"Hello."

"You waitin' on Remy?"

"Yes, I am."

"Figures."

Ororo stared blankly at the woman, watching Bella lazily inspecting her longish nails. Ororo cleared her throat to cover the awkward silence that fell between them. Her feet bounced anxiously over crossed legs.

_Come on, Remy_, she urged wordlessly.

"So . . ." she leaned forward on the table, arms crossed in front of her, "how's everything goin' with ya'll two?"

Ororo cringed inside, cleared her throat. "We're fine," was the brief reply after a few loaded moments. _Obviously_ _better_ _than_ _it_ _was_ _with_ _you_, she'd wanted to say, but naturally held her tongue. She liked to think something stereotypical like female cattiness was beneath her. 'Liked to' being the keywords, because though she was loathe to admit it, even her patience had its end. She didn't need to be a psychiatrist to divine the woman was bitter.

Bella smirked and pulled a pocket-sized emery board from the front of her apron and began working on her nails again. Ororo eyes flicked to the woman in front of her back to phone in her, feigning distraction by it in vain hopes the woman would take the hint and leave.

She didn't.

"I swear, that man," Bella huffed. "He used to be late like that all the time . . . ya know . . . when we dated."

Ororo's lips pursed ever so slightly, a barely imperceptible tick forming tensely in her jaw.

A hard gust outside rattled the windows.

* * *

"I t'ink we all finished den, mon frère. Dat everyt'ing?"

"Yeah, I'd say so," Henri nodded and stood, stretching his long body. Remy glanced at his watch.

"Y' sure y' don' mind watchin' de place while everyone else goes t' lunch?"

"Nah," his brother shrugged, "you know I'd rather be here than at some lunch with père chiding me 'bout . . . whatever he feels like chiding me on today. Not that it would matter now. There'd be no one to watch the bar if I went with you guys."

"Yup, yo' right. Guess y'll be stayin'."

"Eh, go on and get out." Henri waved, shooing his brother out with a wave of his hand. Remy opened the door and walked into the front shaking his head.

"Hey!" Henri called, "You forgot to give me dad's keys!"

Remy doubled-back and searched his pocket for the keys in question. The night of the gala he and Ororo had taken one of Jean-Luc's cars at his father's own insistence. Henri's was presently in the shop so Remy had driven his dad's into work today, knowing he would be spending the rest of afternoon with 'Ro.

Henri caught the set of keys mid-air, nodding arrogantly at his keen hand-eye coordination while Remy rolled his eyes and walked out – again.

". . . And he really liked goin' out all the time, too. Guess he hasn't changed much, huh? . . . Since we were together."

Belladonna laughed silently, self-satisfied with the snarky little innuendos she rattled off. The fact that Ororo was Remy's woman wasn't exactly what did it, because Remy _**always**_ had a woman. And it wasn't because Ororo was beautiful because Remy's women were always beautiful. She'd had to deal with them herself (the vultures) at one time or another during their time together.

But this was not simply because Ororo was in her way - in her place. But this one was sickeningly gorgeous – too beautiful even, and educated. Money obviously. Definitely too much to stomach all at once. Her aggravation was validated.

Ororo fought to repress her ire, already feeling the stir of her powers in the pit of her stomach. If they flared up now – she wasn't sure she could suppress it. The situation was taken out of Ororo's hands however, when she grabbed her purse an stood - deciding to search out Remy on her own and chance the risk - and was hindered by the other woman's hand tugging at her.

"Where're you goin'?" Bella asked, clutching Ororo's upper arm. She wasn't done with this woman yet, hadn't had her fill of fun.

Barely had fleshly contact been made with Ororo's arm, when Belladonna Boudreaux yelped in pain, drawing back in recoil, staring wildly up at the shorter woman in alarm and fear.

Eyes a luminous white, stared back at her, wide lips curved into a dark smirk. "You were saying?" A lone brow raised – sardonically; the eyes below it still white with power.

"N-nothin' . . . ohmyGodohmy . . . sor—ohmyGod—" she sputtered, her eyes frantically darting around the room in search for help as it were.

Ororo's smirk grew at her fear.

"Bonjour, ma belle." Remy said upon entering and seeing Ororo, her back towards him as she was still facing Bella.

"Afternoon, Remy," she returned blithely, her eyes eerily fading back to blue but never straying from a frightened Bella.

"I was in de back talkin' wit' Henri an' remem—"

He paused when his eyes fell to Belladonna.

"Wha' happened t' y'? !"

Remy came and stood alongside Ororo and regarded Belladonna strangely. The blonde shock of her hair stood wildly around her head, as if from static, eyes stretched wide, jaw hanging open. And that smell . . . if they had a kitchen in the bar, Remy would've sworn someone had burnt something.

"We were talking – she and I." Ororo smiled and slipped her hand in Remy's.

Remy's eyes narrowed, darting back and forth between the women curiously, his expression suspicious.

"What?" she exclaimed, innocently, "Is that so big of a **shock**?"

Bella whimpered.

Ororo hid her grin. "Come on, Remy. I'm hungry and guess what? Dr. McCoy's going to join us. And he told me the place had the best cheesecake!"

Remy shook his head. _Mon_ _Dieu_. The woman and cheesecake. Heeding her words, but still wary.

"Hope he ain' anyt'ing like yo' las' colleague."

Ororo's laugh rang out, while Remy led them out the bar and out of sight, though not before Ororo sent a hard look over her shoulder at Bella, who was watching them leave with a mixed expression of fear and awe and astonishment.

"Wha' _**really **_happened in dere, chèrie?" Remy asked once they were outside, falling into the driver's seat.

Ororo huffed and blew out a soft breath. She reached over to grab his hand then and brought it to her lips. Shock-**_less _**this time.

"I'll tell you after we eat and go home, okay?"

He grinned at her. "Okay, chère."

* * *

Remy discovered quickly that Henry "Hank" (as he liked to be called) McCoy was indeed nothing like Nathan. He didn't quite share Nathan's good looks but even more importantly, he didn't share the man's psychotic tendencies. On the contrary, Dr. McCoy was polite, jovial, and radiated warmth and intelligence. From what he'd told them all about his work, the man was quite literary a super genius, but his down to earth demeanor and the intelligent spark in his eyes seemed to belie the fact. The man's large hands nearly engulfed Remy's when they met in a handshake, and astonishingly Remy was at least a foot taller than him, but his girth and stature made him appear stocky – beefy for lack of a better term.

Jean-Luc was nearly fifteen minutes late when he finally joined Ororo, Remy, and Dr. McCoy at their table, and he also nearly suffocated when Dr. McCoy arose immediately upon seeing the mayor and embraced him, shaking his hands enthusiastically with both of his own.

"So good to meet you, Mayor LeBeau, so good. An honor really."

Jean-Luc peeked out of the corner of his eye at Ororo and Remy. Ororo smiled understandingly and shrugged her shoulders. "Jean-Luc, this is Dr. Henry McCoy, he is one of the doctors at Valhalla. He's also a scientist and a myriad of other things my puny mind cannot grasp," Ororo introduced with a smile.

"Oh, Ororo," Henry blushed modestly.

"Dr. McCoy, here, well . . . he likes to keep up with the happenings of the political world," Ororo continued, "And in psychiatry. And in Biology. And in Chemistry. Physics—"

Henry nodded vigorously.

Jean-Luc laughed. "I see. It's nice to meet you, Dr. McCoy."

When everyone had been seated and hellos had been exchanged, the topics of conversation amongst those at the table flowed from unoriginal subjects like work (which Henry had chattered on about incessantly) to the hot topic discussion of Henry and Ororo's fellow colleague, Nathan.

"Oh my stars and garters!" Dr. McCoy had exclaimed when Remy, Ororo, and Jean-Luc had all expounded on the fiasco that had taken place the night of the gala. "I never! Dear Ororo, you must have been terrified."

"A little," Ororo piped. They laughed at her vague understatement.

"Oddly it made sense, in retrospect—the way he had been behaving leading up to that night." Ororo shared with Dr. McCoy and Jean-Luc—who was hearing much of this for the first time— some of the encounters she'd had with Nathan prior to the scuffle at the Governor's party.

"I've known Nathan for some time now, since he was first employed by Mr. and Mrs. Summers, and I've known him to be 'intense' at times, but—" Hank shook his head in disbelief. "Just strange," he finally said. "It's a good thing you had Remy there, Ororo.

Ororo eyes went to Remy, he winked and she smiled. "Yes, he acted quite valiantly," Ororo doted fondly. Playfully but sincere too.

"Ah, yes. As in the words of William Arthur Ward: 'Vow to be valiant; resolve to be radiant; determine to be dynamic; strive to be sincere; aspire to be attuned.'"

The three fell silent, shooting looks at each other knowingly. Then as if on cue, the trio started clapping at Hank's spontaneous yet eloquent oration. He blushed again, shyly arranging his glasses aright on his nose.

Orders for more coffee were taken (and cheesecake in Ororo's case) when Ororo and Remy's impending trip to Baltimore was broached.

"Will you an' Ororo be gone long, mon fils?" Jean-Luc inquired around his coffee.

"Jus' over a week," Remy answered.

"Yes. I had hoped to stay longer but I can't afford to be away from work too long."

"Henri'll be lookin' after de bar," Remy told him, " . . . an' Logan'll be lookin' after de beer."

"Remy," Ororo exclaimed, fighting a grin, the other men enjoying a laugh at Remy's cruel humor and Logan's expense.

"You won't have to worry about anyone causin' trouble or startin' a fight while his there," Jean-Luc added, kindly giving Logan some credit. "Unless he starts it."

Perhaps not. Laughter resumed again.

"Ororo, when you go, please give your father my card," Henri said after the laughter had waned. "I would love to share some of my ideas with him concerning some his mutant research and the work being done in the genetic field."

"I will be sure to, Dr. McCoy. I can tell you now; he'll love to hear them. Don't be surprised when he calls on you."

"I shall look forward to it," Henry beamed.

Jean-Luc proceeded to inform Ororo that he too, knew of Charles' work, being as prolific as he was, and asked Ororo what she knew about it. It was only then that Ororo realized how little she knew about her father's current business affairs – so she relayed in detail what she did know to their hungry ears. Feeling a pang of dismay as the conversation went on into the nature of Charles' work – his brilliance and dedication to mutant rights. It was something she had not given much thought to, even as his daughter. Now she wondered to herself whether or not it had been intentional on a subconscious level.

Remy and Ororo excused themselves just before Dr. McCoy accepted a call from his wife, Dr. Cecilia Reyes, who Hank had told them was a practicing surgeon, formerly of Our Mother of Mercy Hospital in Bronx, New York. Ororo and Remy said their goodbyes to everyone, explaining there was still packing left to do before leaving town.

Dr. McCoy and Remy's father alone remained at the table, earnestly discussing politics further. Eyes and hand gesticulations going about animatedly while they conversed together.

* * *

"No, I didn't mean to do it, not purposely, I was just . . . happy . . . when it did," Ororo confessed, twiddling the thumbs on her clasped hands, head slightly bowed in shame.

They'd been home nearly an hour – Ororo taking the time to divulge what had passed between she and Belladonna back at The Guild.

Remy leaned forward, elbows on his knees and chuckled under his breath. "Ah, ma petite tempête orageuse."

"Whatever," Ororo grinned, rolling her eyes. "I'd prefer just being Ororo, the woman who loves you."

"Ah, vrai. But I like Stormy too."

"Yeah . . . and I don't," she deadpanned.

Ororo got up and kissed him softly, smothering his teasing laughter and settling to nestle fitly at his side.

"Hey Remy, do . . . do you think she'll tell—"

"Non," Remy said emphatically, "She won't. No worries, belle." He kissed her temple.

"You can't be sure of that, Rem. I should've been more discreet. I should have—," Ororo sighed. "It wasn't a smart thing to do."

"Y' didn' mean it, chère."

"I know."

Remy ran the tips of his fingers along her hairline, stroking her hair softy.

"I did once."

"Did what?" Ororo looked up at him.

"Hurt someone wit' my powers."

"Really?"

Remy nodded.

"May I ask why?" Ororo asked.

"Didn' mean t', same as y'. I was a boy, I didn' wear any contacts or glasses 'til I got older. Couple o' boys used t' call me Le Diable Blanc – cause of de eyes. Teased me all de time. One day I jus' . . . got mad. I hit de main one dat did de most teasin' but my fist was—" he stopped, searched for the word, "'charged' I guess at the time. He was almost unconscious when dey came."

"So, your powers kind of . . . made the hit that much more . . . impactful?" she questioned, squinting thoughtfully.

Remy nodded and Ororo whistled loudly. "Remind me not to make you angry, love," she said light-heartedly.

"Ha! Y' one t' talk," Remy scoffed.

Ororo pinched him, both of them laughing at their combined inanity.

"Well, I for one, love your eyes," Ororo quipped when all fell silent again. "I bet there isn't another pair like them."

"Oui?"

"Absolutely."

Remy caught her up and sat her on his lap, bringing her face to his.

She was so beautiful, he thought her just ... so precious. He could feel his heart tighten in his chest each time he looked at her; the intensity of his feelings sometimes made breathing feel almost difficult in moments like these. Such a sublime feeling.

"Wha' else do y' love on me, chère," he murmured deeply in her, tilting her chin up to taste her ruddy lips – his lips clinging, lingering - dancing along the seam. Moments that seemed like they were lasting forever. It was all guileless and pure—a shock to the inherit cynicism that seemed to attach itself to people the longer they lived. And he was no different. Except he had her. Revelatory it was—that love and affection could offer such selflessness and grace to those that were bless to find it.

"I love you, Remy," she whispered in that soft accent of hers. Without prompting. Without warning. Simply because. The tenderness of the moment felt by her too, when silence gave way to meditation and one could voicelessly contemplate the emotion in the atmosphere as if it itself were some tangible thing.

He sighed his contentment and held her firmer, letting his eyes drift shut under the feel of her warm bosom where he laid his head, almost purring when she stroked his hair down to the nape of his neck.

And he rejoiced that he'd been of the ones who'd found it.

* * *

Translations (via Babelfish):

Vrai – true


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's Note:** I've missed you guys! Sorry about the wait. My work has left no leisure time, but I won't make excuses =) This update is a short transitional chapter, I don't like it but … ah, phooey. I've got so many ideas for new, fresh fics rolling around in my head I don't know where to begin. Thanks-a-million for last chapters reviews. And please forgive the bad Scottish in this chapter :-)

* * *

**- 33 -**

"Chère . . .?"

Nothing.

"Hey . . . chèrie?" Remy tried nudging her gently.

Again, nothing.

"'Roro." His voice was firm this time.

"Yes?"

Ororo's head snapped towards him, her facial expression anxious and curious.

"What's wrong, 'Ro?"

Ororo stared at him blankly; her expression unchanged, blank and vacant.

Well at least he'd gotten her attention – he'd take advantage of that.

"You jus' spaced out on me, chère. Y' ain' said a word since we got on de plane. An' yo' palms are damp; I kno' cuz you've been grippin' my hand tight de entire time. An' at takeoff y' had yo' eyes shut an' I actually saw y' tremblin'. Now, y' ain' answerin' me when I try t' talk t' you. Matter-o'-fact I don' t'ink you've said a word de whole flight. Y' worryin' me, girl."

Ororo continued staring at him a few moments, before dropping her gaze. She sighed, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Remy. I didn't realize."

"So what's wrong den?"

Ororo shook her head again. "Nothing. I jus' – I'm a bit anxious."

She glimpsed at Remy who gave her a look, silently imploring her to continue. "I-I just . . . well I don't like planes much," she chuckled nervously. But there was no mirth in it. _No truth in it either_, Remy thought to himself. Certainly, there was more to it than that – a dislike of airplanes. Not once had Ororo mentioned anything about not liking planes before this. Not when they had first planned the trip, not when they'd bought the tickets or made the arrangements, not when they'd left in the early morning hours, and definitely not on the trip to the airport (where she had spent most of the time laughing and sharing with him how glad she was to be visiting home).

_So, then, what was it?_ he had to ask. And why wasn't she being more forthcoming about it?

The last look Remy gave her had to have conveyed his skepticism, because the false smile Ororo had pasted on face fell immediately and she sighed tiredly, staring at her hand that was currently gripped tight in Remy's.

"I'm sorry," she said again. Her cobalt eyes rose hesitantly to find his. "I honestly do get anxious on planes," she confessed, her voice sounding as if she was trying to convince him of the truthfulness of her explanation.

"Yeah . . . but it's mo' den dat, ain' it, chère?"

It actually wasn't a question. She could hear it in his tone. He knew it was something else. Ororo smiled ruefully. _Clever clover_.

"Yes. There is," she replied.

So there it was.

Remy sighed a breath of relief.

Ororo smiled at him and brought their entwined hands up between them, brushing her lips against his knuckles. "You shouldn't worry, Remy," she mumbled against his hand, "I'm okay. I'm fine."

"I kno' dat, chère," he told her. "Does dat mean yo' not gonna tell me why?" He leaned over to brush a strand of white hair out her face. Ororo closed her eyes, savoring the contact his hand made with her cheek. His caresses were always so soft, and for some reason they seemed even softer at that particular moment. It made her heart flutter.

"No, I will. I will tell you. When we land . . . and get settled in at dads. Is that okay?"

Remy smiled, still slightly reluctant, but nodded his agreement. "'S okay, chère," he assured.

"It's really not much of a story, Remy."

"Dat may be, but I still wan' y' t' tell me anyways, " he told her.

"Then I will," she nodded.

Ororo lifted up the armrest divider between them and settled in as best she could into Remy. Burying her face into his neck and shoulder while he instinctively placed his arm around her and welcomed her in. Her warm breath tickled him as she exhaled deeply, her nose in his neck, desperately trying to take in his scent, the comfort he offered without words. Her eyes shut in contentment.

"Mmm," she inhaled deeply the scent of his cologne, mixing deliciously with what was his natural scent. "God, I love you," she murmured, barely above a whisper. As if she was speaking more to herself than the man sitting next to her.

"Oui?" Remy looked down at her.

Ororo nuzzled his neck with her nose. "Mm-hmm. You know I do." Her statement resonated like a low purr, deep and sultry.

". . . Um, petite?"

"Hmm?" Her hand traced lazy circles on his chest with warmed fingertips. His muscles twitched under her touch. Was she crazy? Doing this to him thirty thousand feet in the air?

"Are y' tryin' t' join de 'Mile High Club'?"

Remy felt her vibrating chuckles against his neck. Still laughing, she leaned up to kiss jod face just once before letting her hand fall back down to his stomach. There'd be time for that later, she chided herself. They'd **make** time for that later.

"Sorry."

"I was hopin' y' were gonna say yes," Remy said after a moment. He felt her laughing against him again, glancing down to see her blue eyes twinkling. No frown to be found on her beautiful face.

Now, that was his 'Ro. He was glad to see her mood had begun to pass.

"You know," Ororo quirked her head thoughtfully, peering up at him, cheeky and full of devilment, "if we did, I don't think the plane could survive the storm."

Several pairs of eyes shot over at them curiously at the combined shout of laughter from the two as they doubled back with laughter over a joke only they were privy to.

* * *

"Eh, belle?"

"Yeah?"

"What's de femme's name again?"

"Dr. Moira MacTaggert."

"An' wha' does she look like?" Remy asked. He bent down and grabbed one of the larger of Ororo's bags. Ororo smiled up at him in thanks, letting the other roll behind her while she and Remy began walking in search of the red-headed Scot.

"Well," Ororo pursed her lips thoughtfully, "she has green eyes, red-hair, uhhh she's tall, and she—"

"I cannae believe it! ORORO!"

Ororo stopped dead in her tracks, smiling back at Remy. "And she sounds like that."

Remy laughed and followed Ororo, watching as the woman Ororo had just been describing ran up to them (heedless of the stares she was receiving) and embraced Ororo firmly, squealing her enthusiasm at the couples' long-waited arrival.

"Moira!" Ororo grinned, returning the woman's fierce embrace with like vigor. How long had it been since she'd seen Moira MacTaggert? Ororo was struck by just how much she had missed her friends and family as the warmth of Moira's embrace seeped into her bones.

"O', Ororo." Moira pulled back, holding the taller woman at arm's length so she could give her the proper once over she'd been waiting for. The woman's eyes started to get misty. "O' ma lass, yae look so gorgeous! As always. I cannae believe it; yer more beautiful than ye were the last time I saw ye," she doted warmly.

"Oh, Moira," Ororo said, her lowered head and shy grin conveying her modesty at the statement. "You look incredible yourself," she exclaimed.

And it was true.

The Scottish doctor seemed as if she hadn't aged a day since the last Ororo had seen her. The woman's hair was shorter than she had last seen it, the red hair styled into a neat bob that framed her face and complimented the woman's fair skin nicely. Only a few grey strands stood out in contrast against the red of her locks. The Scotswoman's moss-green eyes were lively and her smile was broad giving her a pleasant disposition, her faint laugh lines and crow's feet adding character and maturity to the woman's attractive features.

"I dinna ken about that, child," Moira said, fiddling with the bangs on her forehead self-consciously.

"Well I do," Ororo grinned, "I bet your keeping dad on his toes," Ororo winked, her expression sly and knowing.

Moira rolled her eyes in something akin to amused exasperation. "Ha! Dinna even git me started on that man. Ye ken A'd never stop." Moira trailed off suddenly, catching a glimpse of patiently quiet man standing so close to Ororo.

_Lard 'n heaven . . . _

"And speaking of men," Moira' eyes affixed to Remy and lingered there unashamedly as she regarded him intently for the first time since approaching them. Her green eyes widened, "Who is this handsome lad ye have haur lass?"

Ororo took his hand and smiled happily up at him. "Moira, this is, Remy LeBeau."

Remy inclined his head to the older woman, and bowed courteously, taking the woman's hand and placing a kiss across her knuckles. "Pleasure t' meet y', m'selle. 'Roro tol' me all about y' prior t' de trip. S' good t' meet y' finally."

"Did she now?"

"Oui, but she didn' tell me y' were so beautiful."

Moira's normally pale skin flushed red with color, blushing prettily in reaction to the handsome Cajun's charms. Behind his back, Ororo rolled her eyes, a smile on her face.

"O' my," Moira murmured in awe. Quite, obviously impressed (as most people were when they first saw Remy).

Ororo scoffed and Remy smirked. Truthfully, Ororo didn't fault Moira one bit. That's how he'd gotten her too. Like a moth to the flame.

"Aye, Ororo, ye have something on yer hands with this one, eh, lass?" Moira nodded towards Remy.

"No worries, on dat front, m'selle," Remy bragged, draping an arm around Ororo, "Ororo 'andles me jus' fine."

Ororo's jaw dropped, feeling heat suffuse her swarthy cheeks. Moira's eyes widened, going from a shameless Remy to a blushing Ororo. The doctor's mouth slowly broke into a shrewd grin, her emerald eyes dancing.

"Well, our Ororo has always been quite a capable lass," Moira quipped to Ororo's further horror. Her flashing blue eyes bore into Moira's, who was pretending not to notice, even if she could feel the heat of them on the side of her face.

"Well," she spoke up, clapping her hands together, "let's get ye both out of haur; we'll have plenty of time tae talk on the way."

Ororo cast one last glance at Remy, who shrugged and held out his hands as if to say: "what?" – not hiding at all the look of satisfaction on his face. Ororo couldn't help but crack a smile as she linked arms with him and drew him along with her as they followed the Scottish doctor outside.

"Don' worry, chère. Y' can make me pay fo' it later, if ye wan'," he leaned and whispered smoothly in her ear.

Ororo shivered and Remy's grin widened.

"Oh, I want," she affirmed quietly.

Remy grunted his approval, his smile smug. He definitely wanted too.

"Charles and Jean will be there by the time we arrive," Moira informed, non-plussed by the secretive undertones between the two trailing behind her.

She chuckled, "Jean almost went crazy when she found out her shift wouldna end in time tae come along with ma tae get ye two."

"Sounds like Jean," Ororo smiled, fondly reminiscing on her friend and knowing Moira's statement to be true.

Ororo immediately recognized the luxury car as one of her father's as soon as she saw it, the driver standing by the trunk ready to help load their luggage. Ororo waved him off with a smile, when he came to assist.

"No, thank you, I think we've got it."

"Yes, ma'am." He tipped his hat.

She and Remy loaded the luggage into the trunk before slamming it closed, and sliding in the backseat of the Lincoln Town Car, freshly polished and sleek. She and Remy occupied the one side, while Moira sat across from them on the other, promptly fixing herself a drink from the small bar in the back.

"What are you drinking, Moira?" Ororo asked.

"Just orange juice, girl."

"Wanna fix me one?"

"Sure thing, lass."

Ororo took the proffered glass and turned back towards Remy.

"How are you doing, love?"

Ororo nestled herself closer to her beau and stared up at him. Her arm came around him, hands leisurely gliding up and down his side.

"I'm good, chèrie. Don' y' mind me."

"Tired?"

"Non."

"Are you thirsty? Do you want something to drink?"

"None fo' me, chère, t'anks."

"Okay," Ororo grinned, satisfied. "As long as your all right."

Moira sat beaming across from the small aisle while studying the young lovers. Ororo had gotten herself a good one this time around. _A major step up from the awful Forge character_, Moira thought to herself. She watched Ororo whispering, smiling at the gentleman she'd brought with her.

She certainly had changed since moving to New Orleans, and there was no doubt in the mind of Dr. Moira MacTaggert that the man with those curious, two-toned eyes was the cause. Moira studied those eyes as discreetly as she could without appearing obvious. She hadn't taken note of them until he'd uncovered them once they'd all filed into the car; he had worn dark shades at the airport earlier when she'd met them. Didn't take a rocket scientist to deduce he was a mutant – like Ororo. Like Jean. Charles . . .

It seemed as though at times, she was the odd man, in their little circle sometimes. She didn't hold an ounce of resentment, however. Moira knew there wasn't a greater group of people around. None that she knew at least.

"So, what's dad up to, Moira?" Ororo asked from across the way.

Moira laughed and shrugged as Ororo's query broke through her thoughts. "What makes ye think I ken, lass?"

Ororo rolled her eyes. "You're dad's partner in crime," Ororo answered, as if it was the most obvious reason in the world.

"Ha," Moira barked. "I plead tha fifth, dear girl," she replied, raising her hand in a solemn pledge.

"Traitor," Ororo grumbled playfully. Moira chuckled and turned towards Remy.

"Mr. LeBeau."

Remy directed his attention to the red-haired doctor.

"A wouldna be wrong in assuming yer of Cajun descent, no?"

"Ah, you'd be correct, m'selle," Remy inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Aye, I could tell. 'Tis fascinating, it 'tis."

"Wha' part o' Scotland are y' from?" asked, having noticed the woman's thick Scottish brogue.

"Kinross Estate."

"Wha' field do y' work in, doctor?"

"Genetics. So does Ororo's father, partly. We've worked tagether closely fer many years."

"Moira is a genius," Ororo added, ". . . with a Nobel Prize to prove it."

Remy's eyebrow rose. "Oui? Impressionant."

"Couldna have dunnit without my Charlie."

Ororo listened to them both conversing, gathering general information about the other, as they continued the drive to her father's mansion. Ororo commented when she could, where she could, knowing introductions and familiarities would be made all over again once they'd reached home and met up with Jean and Charles.

When the vehicle began its ascent up the long drive way of Xavier's, Ororo sat up and rolled her window down, letting in a late afternoon breeze that carried on it the scent of flowers as it caressed her face. The mansion came into view as they slowly rolled on.

"We're here, love," Ororo smiled at Remy. He smiled back at her, "So I see, ma chère. Mon Dieu," he muttered.

It was even bigger than he'd expected; he could only guess how spacious the interior was. The car came to a complete stop right in front of the stone steps that led to the front entrance. The chauffeur opened the door for Dr. MacTaggert, while on the other side, Remy had taken Ororo's hand and was carefully helping her out the car. The Cajun observed their surroundings appreciatively, grateful that he was finally able to stretch his long legs after an extended time of seating in the plane and in the car.

"Oh, wow," Ororo gasped. "I see dad has been planting new flowers out here." Ororo went over to the plants, delicately touching her father's new additions to the ornate landscaping around the front of the large house.

"He had them planted a month or so ago," Moira expounded as she came alongside Ororo.

"They're beautiful," she exclaimed softly.

Ororo looked at Remy, a dazzling smile gracing her face. He bent down and grazed her smiling lips with his. She was glad to be home, he knew. And here he was, right outside her father's mansion, and he was surprised to note he wasn't at all nervous. Quite, contrarily, he felt a sense of calmness, tranquility even. Ororo's world was his world; they'd shared it together, and abide in it together. That fact took care of everything else.

"Seems like he has done a lot out here," Ororo continued. "I wonder what other surprises he has I've yet to see," she pondered.

Moira eyes left Remy and Ororo and fell to a point beyond them, a warm smile spreading across her face.

"Then why do you not just ask me yourself, my daughter?"

Ororo and Remy both whirled around in the direction of the man's cultured tone. A distinguished man, with kind eyes, sat in a wheelchair beside an attractive woman with fiery red hair, who stood slighty behind him, her hand on the back of his chair, both their faces shining with barely concealed joy.

Remy knew who they were immediately, having seen dozens of pictures of the two.

Ororo's look of surprise faded as she broke into a brilliant smile of recognition.

"Dad! Jean!"


	35. Chapter 36

**Author's Note: **Thanks for last chapter's reviews :D Enjoy :D

_Edits made 4/5/2011  
_

* * *

**- 34 -**

It was after their initial introductions that Charles invited Remy to tour the large mansion with him – alone that is. When he'd extended the invitation Ororo shot a questioning look at Charles. Her eyes going to Remy, a wary expression colored her features as she dubiously regarded the two men.

"Dad, I—" she'd started to interject before her father interrupted.

"Just a quick tour, child. I won't abduct the man," he'd promised at Ororo's clear look of hesitance at leaving Remy alone.

Ororo's blue gaze went between the two again, before stopping on Remy. She raised her brows at him. "You'll be okay without me?"

"Ororo, child, I'm not taking the man to an internment camp. He'll be fine; I assure you."

Ororo stared at Remy for confirmation.

"Oui, chèrie." He grinned reassuringly at her. "Remy be fine. Go on an' let yo' père show me de place, non?" he prodded her. "Go, catch up wit' yo' friends, petite. Yo' papa an' I be fine."

Ororo acquiesced, smiling softly at him while nodding. "Okay. Okay, sure. I'm going to go help Jean and Moira in the kitchen. That's where I be if you all need me, all right?"

"Of course."

"Sure, chère."

Ororo regarded them a moment more, before easing down the hall and disappearing around a corner.

"Protective of you, isn't she?" Xavier humored, eyes twinkling mirthfully as both men watched her disappear down the hall.

Remy turned and laughed. "I'd be de same way 'bout her," he confessed, kneading the back of his neck. "I can't blame her none."

"Ah! I see. So the protectiveness is mutual. Good . . . very good."

Ororo's father stared at the younger man a moment more before his hand fell to a small set of controls on the arm of his wheelchair, his eyes hinting his silent approval. He stretched his hand at the wide, yawning hallways before them. A mansion waited to be explored.

"Well, my boy, shall we?"

**_— x —_**

In the kitchen, Ororo found Moira and Jean dicing vegetables on an island counter in the center of the very large room and – pristinely modern – kitchen. Ororo once again looked around at her surroundings and found that Charles had made improvements. Stainless steel appliances sat on the marble counters, the cabinetry all designed in beautiful exotic woods making everything positively immaculate.

The white-haired African had no sooner picked up a knife and began dicing a pile of mushrooms, before a volleying barrage of questions assailed her on both sides. One characterized by a deep, Scottish brogue.

"'Ro, you weren't lying when you said he was gorgeous!" Jean gushed. "He is! He is gorgeous."

While Ororo had certainly showed Remy photographs of Charles and Jean, she had none to e-mail them of Remy. Today was the first either her adopted father or surrogate sister had seen the dashing Cajun. Moira's reaction had been much like Jean's when she'd first seen the tall Cajun – if not _**slightly**_ more subdued than her other red-headed counterpart.

Ororo's small smile was shy. Eyes downcast and focused on perfectly slicing the mushrooms before her, the task requiring much less heavy concentration than the intense focus wherewith she did it.

"Aye, my cailín, he's a very handsome lad," Moira joined.

"Yes, he is," Ororo agreed sedately.

"It's no wonder you kicked Jonathan to the curb!" Jean announced. She rolled her emerald-green eyes and tossed back her fiery red locks behind her shoulder. "I don't blame you for a minute."

"Hey! I didn't kick Jonathan to the curb," Ororo objected. "He's the one who proposed to me, for me to find out, only hours later mind you, that he'd had a fling with that Raven woman he worked with."

Ororo kept to herself the boisterous storm she'd brewed up with her emotions. And how she'd nearly frightened the chastened Cheyenne within an inch of his life. All that right before Remy had come to her, drew her in his arms. Driven her home.

Ororo lips quirked into a tiny grin at the fond memory. The warmth of those arms. They'd chased away not only the chill of the icy torrents of rain, but the chill of her heart that night.

She'd never forget that.

"Bollocks. Call it what ye will, lass, but ye certainly made off better in mae opinion."

"Oh, Moira," Ororo grinned crookedly, "you never liked Jonathan."

"Aye, but the fact remains. It's a guid laddie y' have on yuir hands there. Though I can see it . . . he's the devil in disguise, that man o' yuirs. A man that handsome and charming has tae have a little devil in him somewhere."

Ororo laughed at that, shaking her head. "Well," she began in a murmur, her voiced lowered, as she began talking more to herself than the women next to her, "he _**is**_ that _**good**_ kind of trouble, if you know what I mean."

Ororo stood, smirk on her face and not even realizing the little slip of private information, until she turned to find the source of the two women's sudden silence and saw them gaped mouth and staring at her in shock.

"Oh, my . . ." the red-haired duo whispered under breath, both set of green eyes locked on the white-haired beauty.

Ororo frowned, floundering as her mouth opened and closed in an attempt to speak when Jean and Moira burst forth at the same time.

"TELL US, TELL US!"

_**— x —**_

Back in the library, Charles and Remy sat – him in a plush winged chair – across from each other, in no small terms discussing the dusky, white-haired beauty whom stood as the object of affection for both men, each in a unique way from the other.

"So, how did Ororo handle the plane?" Charles inquired, carefully stirring a steaming cup of tea that had been brought in by one of the maids. An attractive woman with raven hair and azure eyes, about Dr. MacTaggert's age, who Charles had introduced as Lilandra – Lilandra Neramani.

His question surprised Remy.

"Y' kno' 'bout dat?" Remy asked, once again curious about Ororo's peculiar behavior on the plane earlier that day.

"Indeed, I do. When I first brought her here, I awoke many a night, rushing to her room and holding her as her little body trembled with nightmares at the memory."

Remy's heart quickened a bit, and his features twisted into a worrisome frown. _Nightmares at the memory?_ His pulse spiked in alarm. What memories could a young Ororo have had that would cause her to tremble in the night?

Remy wanted to know.

"She wasn'- she didn't seem good, sir. She was anxious all durin' de flight. I tried t' get her t' tell me wha' was wrong."

"I'm guessing from your reaction to my question that she didn't."

"Non. I mean - oui – yes. She . . . she told me she would though."

The keen, wheel-chaired bound doctor/professor looked at Remy with intelligent blue eyes. He held Remy's gaze steadily when he spoke again.

"Then she will."

Remy gave a solemn nod. Swallowing past the lump in his throat that had formed with this new information.

Xavier quietly sipped his tea for several moments before speaking again.

"I'm assuming no turbulence, then? No roiling storm clouds seething in the sky threatening to tear the plane apart?" Charles joked, one dark blond brow arched questioningly.

Remy laughed and shook his head, grateful for the instance levity provided by the other man's subtle humor.

"Non. T'ank God."

Charles made a vague grunt of agreement. "You should. I could not tell you how many times, I sat in the dark – in this very mansion – because she'd thrown a temper tantrum or because something else had upset her and the electricity went out."

"Oh, I kno'," Remy agreed readily, straightening and leaning forward in the chair. "I saw her de night she argued wit' that guy she was engaged to – Jared, Jeremy—"

"Jonathan," they both supplied at once.

"Yeah," Remy continued, "dat was de firs' time I'd seen her like dat – found out she had powers . . ." Remy was thoughtful for a brief moment before continuing, "But dat storm was nothin'. Mon Dieu, I t'ought she was gon' create a hurricane de first' time w—"

The delicate china cup stopped right below Charles' mouth, staring straight across at Remy, where said man was slowly showing the makings of a telltale brush spreading across his tan skin.

The Cajun's face felt warm at his almost slip. Remy cleared his throat and chanced a glance at Charles, his countenance sheepish and repentant.

"Sorry," he said simply.

Charles waved it off passively, sympathizing with the young man across from him, still blushing furiously.

"I am a realist, Remy. You needn't explain to me. I am not ignorant about your intimacy with my daughter."

Remy gaped.

"Sir, I—"

"_**You**_, my boy, are grown. As is Ororo. And she's fond of you. That is plain to see. In the end, all I'm concerned about is that she is happy and healthy and being treated well. I have no worries about either of those points. Ororo has always been an intelligent woman, and if she is fond of you, than so am I."

Remy hadn't expected that, he fought simply to keep a neutral expression on his face, but lost to the tiny grin that curved his mouth.

"Dat's – I don' – I, uh, 'preciate y' sayin' dat, sir," Remy stammered.

Charles grinned pleasantly. "Just Charles will be fine."

". . . Charles."

Xavier nodded affirmatively. His cup made a soft tinkling sound as he set his finished tea on a dainty saucer.

"Ororo told me she met your father," Xavier commented, his tone polite and conversational.

"Oui," Remy smiled, "She did. A few times now. My père is very fond of her."

"Made a good impression did she?"

Remy smiled again, nodding. "Oui."

"You know, Remy, Ororo living a fair distance away can be . . . disconcerting at times. She has no family in New Orleans, and the only people she knows there are the Summers. She had some anxiety when she first left, and her relationship with Jonathan didn't help matters. And I know for a fact that she felt very lonely. But . . . Ororo has . . . well, she has changed – in many ways I've noticed. She has always carried herself very rigidly, very repressed. The complications with her abilities only gave her further reason – in her mind – to behave so. But this . . . change in her . . . it's subtle and understated, but it's there. And it's better. I am grateful for the part you have had in this, along with your family and friends. You've done something even I, as her father, was not able to do. I'm, nevertheless, thankful."

Inside, Remy fought to hide his glee and satisfaction at having obviously charmed Ororo's father.

"Sir – Charles . . . I 'preciate dat, 'specially comin' from her father. But – 'Roro's made a big different in my life too. When I first met her, it was in a professional capacity she was t' help me. De months prior t' meetin' 'Ro was tough fo' me. It was actually my père an' a friend o' mine dat pushed me t' go see someone." Remy smirked fondly, coyly. "'Course I wasn' expectin' 'Roro."

Charles' chuckle was warm at that.

"Basically, Charles, I'm glad yo' daughter is in my life. If I've helped her in some way, den I'm glad, but . . . all I kno' is dat she helped me. I love her, dat's really all I can be sure 'bout." Remy's heart swelled with the confession. She did. She did mean so much to him. He was glad she was in his life.

And he did love her.

Saying it aloud to someone else – to her father – was overwhelming for him. The realization seemingly washing over him afresh, anew.

The Cajun had a sudden urge to rush to her, embrace her, and tell her again wholeheartedly.

"You can, my boy," Charles' smooth voice suddenly broke into his thoughts, "she's right there in the doorway."

Remy's auburn brows knit together in confusion, frowning slightly as he looked at Charles and then turned in his seat to the doorway behind him, where Ororo stood.

Remy's mouth flew open, his head snapping back to Charles, narrowed black-red eyes conveying his bewilderment and slight fear.

"I didn't want to barge in," he heard Ororo saying from behind him, "but I wanted to let you two know that dinner is ready. If-if you all are ready," Ororo trailed off, looking between the two and feeling as if she had perhaps came in between something.

"Thank you, my daughter. What do you say, Remy, are you ready for dinner?"

Charles' eyes sparkled with a clever awareness. A hint of amusement even. Remy sat silently, still boring into Xavier with anxious eyes, unsure and yet completely sure_**. **__He'd read his thoughts?_

The slight smirk on Ororo's father's face grew.

"Remy?" Ororo called softly, frowning. She stepped forward quietly, still frowning, and placed a hand on his shoulder, finally commanding the Cajun's attention.

"Aren't you hungry, love?" she questioned, curiously.

Remy shook his head, scattering his reddish-brown hair across his forehead and cleared his throat.

"Uh, yeah, chère. Sorry. Yeah, I–I could eat. I mean, I'm ready fo' dinner."

Ororo nodded slowly. "Okay, well, it's ready. Jean and Moira are setting the table."

"Merci, chèrie."

Remy stood, embracing his woman tightly, pecking her lips before casting once last quizzical glance at her father from over her shoulder. Charles responsively bowed his head to his daughter's keen suitor, and led the way out the library towards the dining area.

* * *

"Yo' père kinda pulled a fast one on you, eh, chère?" The question mumbled over the unmistakable sound of brushing teeth. Ororo grinned to herself. He couldn't ask after he'd brushed his teeth? Ororo gathered the pillow closer under her head.

"Doesn't surprise me really," Ororo mused, on her back looking up at the ceiling of her old bedroom. So familiar after having not seen or been in it for some time. "He's intentionally being covert about the reason he asked me to come home."

*** EARLIER AT DINNER ***

_Ororo's fork clanked softly against her plate as she let it fall from her hand and onto the table. Deliberately, Ororo turned in her seat, facing Charles' direction, where he was seated at the head of the dinner table, near Moira._

_Charles met her eyes from his seat, a small grin already forming on his mature face, giving the impression that he knew already what was coming. Undeterred, his curious daughter asked him._

"_So," she spoke clearly above the lively conversation among the others around the table, "we've been filled in on Jean and all she's been up to since I've away. We've discussed Moira and the work she's been doing in her field, and Remy and I have told you all about his family and our lives in New Orleans, but—" she emphasized," You, dad, have been suspiciously moot about the reason you asked me home."_

_Her father's grin widened on one side. _

"_Would you care to share, father dearest?" Ororo chirped, her smile and tone playfully saccharine, eyes sparkling challengingly at her father. _

_Around the table, Moira, Jean, and Remy watched the two with amusement playing across their faces. Secretly, Remy was generally curious about it all himself. And the look in his eyes said as much as they watched affixed on Charles and Ororo. Jean and Moira, on the other hand, looked vaguely aware – Jean, Charles, and Moira all casting small, surreptitious glances between each other. _

_A perceptible hush fell over them at Ororo's question. All the occupants at the table watching in silence as Charles lifted his wine glass, took a sip, sat it back down, quirked a brow (and his mouth) and finally said: "Tomorrow."_

_Ororo balked at the simplicity – and more importantly – the finality of her father's soft answer._

"_Tomorrow?" she echoed, disbelief apparent. _

_Jean caught Ororo's indignant expression, and the beautiful red-headed physician giggled a little. Moira smiled discreetly behind a cup of coffee._

_Charles found his daughter's surprised blue gaze, once more repeating his earlier reply. "Tomorrow."_

_Remy laughed when Charles, nonplussed, cleared his throat, clapped his hands together and said: "Well, ladies, did you three make dessert?"_

**_— x_**_**—**  
_

Inside the bathroom, Remy rinsed and checked his teeth a final time, before flicking off the light and crawling into the bed alongside his beloved. She smiled as Remy pulled her closer into his warmth so he could spoon behind her, lean arms coming around her waist.

"Does it bother you?" Remy asked, "Not knowin' yet?"

"Mm, no," Ororo reflected, "That's how dad is." She shrugged, "He'll tell us tomorrow."

"Do y' kno' where he's takin' us tomorrow?"

"No," Ororo confessed, "but I'm sure wherever we're going has something to do with the whole thing."

"Hmm," Remy hummed. His thoughts going back to his conversation in the library with Charles.

"You share yo' papa's penchant fo' secrets, chèrie," Remy said softly, treading lightly about what he knew – and had discovered – to be a sensitive topic.

Ororo turned within his arms, facing him and finding his eyes in the semi dark.

"Did dad tell you?" Her eyes falling for a moment.

". . . Non," he shook his head, pausing a beat. "He said you would."

Stunning blue eyes, reminiscent of a cat, rose to find his once more. She clasped Remy's hand, held it, and leaned forward to kiss his face.

"And I am – now."


	36. Chapter 37

**Author's** **Note**: Quick/short update. A bit o' filler. We're almost at the finish line. You guys are great, thanks for all the kind words :D

* * *

**- 35 -**

He'd probably slept about a half an hour more after Ororo had woken him gently. Whispering near his ear that she was going out with Jean for awhile, and would return to him later. Remy heard himself grunt in acknowledgement, muffled by the pillow, but he was hardly lucid. Ororo laughed at his hoarse grumble. Her low chuckle found his ears, and he grinned sleepily when he felt her leaning on the bed and her soft lips warm on his bare back.

Rising, Ororo grinned softly at him before pulling the sheets up farther around his shoulders, and glancing back once more before grabbing her bag and quietly shutting the door behind her.

The Cajun had been vaguely confused when he awoke several minutes later, reaching out and founding her side of the bed empty – the sheets cool where she'd lain. Remy yawned and stretched his long body, turning over, groaning as he flipped over onto his back with his arms and legs spread across the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Sensitive red and black eyes squinted a little at the golden light slipping through Ororo's sheer curtains. He lifted his hand to his face, scratching his face and feeling the coarse stubble he knew decorated his jaw. He didn't arise out of bed immediately though. Instead, he let his mind drift to Ororo and all he'd learned about her last night. When he found out what could cause a little girl to tremble in the dark, and a grown woman to tremble aboard a plane.

_**— x —**_

_**NIGHT BEFORE . . .**_

"_I don't remember it all . . . just . . . the fear . . ." she'd told him. "I was born in Harlem, but my mother and father had traveled to Cairo on a photography assignment for my dad. We stayed at a hotel there."_

_Remy listened silently, watched the stoic demeanor she wore while reliving the event. Her voice was small, but clear, and he wasn't all put out that she didn't look at him as she spoke. Her eyes finding rest on their set of joined hands, intertwined tightly. _

"_There was an Arab/Israeli conflict happening at that time. I can remember this . . . roaring sound coming closer and closer, and I can remember looking towards where the noise was coming and seeing this huge plane heading straight toward our window."_

"_Mon Dieu . . ." he gasped. His exclamation hardly more than a whisper. Remy's heart lurched inside, panic and sobering realization seizing his heart and settling bitterly in his stomach._

"_Everything is black after that. I woke up in an Egyptian hospital with only a few minor scraps, bruises . . . My parents were gone."_

_Remy's eyes stung with the onset of tears. He blinked furiously to keep any from falling. Swallowing hard past the sorrow he felt at her plight._

"_Like I told you, I don't remember it all, but it seems to come back vividly in flashes when something triggers a reminder."_

"_Like flyin' on a plane," Remy concluded. _

_Tiny drops of rain pelted softly against the glass doors leading to the small balcony outside their room. He looked at her face to see – wondering if it was a mirror of the gentle show of weather pattering against the French doors outside. But her face was dry. Remy lifted her beautiful, tearless face up from its downcast position, noticing immediately, her eyes suddenly resembled a cloudy sky, the wintry blue replaced with a dull gray._

"_I'm sorry, ma coeur," he uttered, soft words under-noted with heart-warming sincerity. Remy watched a tired smile curve her mouth, full ruddy lips barely forming a quirk. _

"_I know, love." Sighing, bringing her head to his, she kissed it. "I know."_

_He hadn't guessed that. Indeed, who would've? Ororo fell asleep soon after that, and he too followed her minutes later. Knowing full well in that moment, that her pain would always be his to share. Yet, it wasn't a somber thought, despite the situation. It was a forging – a binding of hearts, of feelings potent and true. _

_**— x —**  
_

Ororo's scent wafted around him as he finally pulled back the covers, stretching languidly as he stood, hearing the slight cracks and pops of his joints. Remy glanced at the digital display by the bedside before shuffling towards the bathroom. He shucked his night clothes, giving the water a moment to heat up, stepping in and showering quickly. Hoping he would catch Ororo's father still at breakfast. He stepped out dripping, grabbing a towel and tucking it in around his waist. Water dripped from his longish locks, bending down and riffling through his luggage for a pair of denim jeans and a shirt. The ends of his plentiful auburn hair dampened his shirt around the shoulders, while he left it to air dry and hurried downstairs, finding his way around easily. Unlike someone who'd only been there a little over a day.

His long strides came to a halt in his trek through the halls when he caught a glimpse of several pictures mounted on a wall in what was obviously a large sitting room. He wandered into the room curiously, pausing at a cluster of pictures near the fireplace. Remy leaned in and started at the photographs. A pleasant smile lit up his dark eyes. Pictured were various photos of Ororo – some of her alone in them, others with a combination of Charles, Jean, and even two with Moira.

He looked over them carefully, learning something from each. A few even adorned the mantle of the fireplace beneath them. Pictures of what appeared to be a preteen Ororo playing a piano, her eyes focused intently on its keys. One of Ororo and Jean and Charles and Moira at their graduation, the former two draped in their gowns and smiling at the camera, Charles' face reflecting his pride with Moira, her hand on his shoulder, smiling – standing at his side.

When said man wheeled quietly into the room, Remy hardly noticed. Still grinning at the pictures of his 'Ro. He recognized one with Jonathan and Ororo and couldn't help scowling – the copper-skinned man beaming at the camera with an arm around Ororo, who ironically wasn't smiling at all, but wore a mild expression on her flawless face.

"I suppose we will need some of you and her now."

Remy turned to look at Charles coming along beside him, his eyes, too, finding the photographs. The man was impeccably dressed, donning a three piece business suit and polished back Ferragamo's. Remy just smiled, giving a short nod of his head.

"We must be sure to take a few before you both leave."

"Bien. Sure."

Charles sighed, reaching up to clap a hand on Remy's shoulder. "Come, my boy. Join me for breakfast."

"Oui, t'ank you." Remy nodded, glancing back at the photographs a last before following behind Xavier.

* * *

Lilandra refilled the two men's cups of coffee, smiling at both men before pushing through the door that led to the kitchen, making her exit and leaving Remy and Xavier alone in the room and sitting at the table.

Though utterly charming and never without words of wit, the Cajun had been somewhat concerned about what to say to Ororo's father when Ororo wasn't there and it was just the two of them. Trying to avoid any potentially awkward moments between himself and father of his woman. But the Cajun soon found out he'd needlessly been anxious because Charles engaged him fully in conversations. Not only out of cordiality or false pretenses but genuine interest. Remy respected that, and the initial respect he had for Charles grew incrementally each time he found himself in the man's company. _Plus, not many could pull of the bald look as Charles did_, Remy ruminated insightfully.

The two men found themselves discussing many things over breakfast, venturing in even onto the subject of Remy's father and his politics. Oddly, Remy wasn't surprised or put-off. Jean-Luc LeBeau was currently only a mayor, but it was no secret he was considering moving onto the state level, where mutant rights were a hot topic. And also, the focus of the wise Dr. Charles Francis Xavier who dined right across from him.

". . . All of this has much to do with why I asked Ororo to visit," Charles was saying.

"Huh?"

Remy's ears perked at that. "Say again, sir, sorry." Remy leaned forward in his chair, his ears open and ready for information. More curious than he had realized he was about the reason for Charles' request for Ororo. He chalked it up to Charles' purposeful ambiguity on the matter. One couldn't help but to wonder.

"Just Charles, please."

"Right. Charles."

Xavier grinned, grabbing his coffee and swallowing a mouthful and wiping at his mouth with a linen napkin, before issuing a reply.

"Helping mutants, Remy. A broad reason, of course, but it does relate to why I wanted to have a discussion with Ororo in person."

"I see," Remy murmured. He said nothing for a minute, letting his brain absorb the statement. He was left curious still – more so. How could this involve Ororo? Honestly, there were a thousand ways, but he didn't dare try to piece together the puzzle without all of the pieces – not yet anyhow.

"Ha," Charles laughed heartily, "your face looks much like Ororo's did last night."

Remy scoffed.

"Do not fret, Remy. All will be explained later this evening once Ororo comes home and we arrive there."

More ambiguity.

"Does 'there' have somet'ing t' do wit' dis too," Remy asked, keenly.

Again, the older man chuckled. "Absolutely."

The door to the dining room opened again, this time admitting Moira, three shopping bags in hand, pulling out the chair next to Charles, and plopping down into it.

"Back so soon," Charles greeted her.

"Aye, Jeannie got called into work. Cut our little excursion short, it did." Moira leaned over and kissed the top of Charles' head. He smiled, laying his hand over atop hers on the table. Moira grinned in return, turning towards Remy and nodding. "Guid marning, Remy."

"Mornin'."

Remy looked back at the door, watching and expecting Ororo to walk through it next. When she failed to, Remy turned around to question Moira. "Did 'Roro come back wit' yo'?"

The Scotswoman shook her head. "She said she'll be home soon, there were a few things she wanted tae get while she was out."

She and Charles fell in conversation amongst themselves, leaving Remy alone with his thoughts. A subtle feeling of disappointment washing over him when he learned Ororo would be awhile still. He rose and thanked Charles for breakfast, before leaving the table and jogging through the halls, back up the spiraling staircase to the bedroom to grab his cell phone. He could call Ororo, find out where she was, and join her there. No waiting.

The phone wouldn't turn on when he went to call, and he murmured a curse, bending down to rifle through his luggage again and search out his charger. A small mountain of clothes piled up on the bed, piece by piece, as Remy hunted through two bags trying to locate the thing. He heard the door open and creak shut behind him, and he looked up at the noise, standing fully to see Ororo coming in, shaking her head at the mess before her.

"'Roro."

"Remy, what are your doing, babe?" she laughed, setting her bags and packages on the messy bed and tugging off her sweater, revealing a pretty powder blue dress. Remy walked over, pulling her into his arms and pecked her smiling lips.

"I was gonna call yo'; I couldn' find my charger."

"So I see," she grinned, glancing at the jumbled mess on the bed.

"Jean, Moira, and I went out for breakfast, and then we walked around to pick up a few things. I was a little late because I stopped at a few other places and got something for you." She pointed at the bags.

"Moi?" Remy gestured to himself, hands on his chest indicatively.

"Yeah," Ororo lips curved, picking up the clothes on the bed, and starting to fold them properly. "That box right there."

Remy grinned at her and reached over to pick up rectangular box, a simple ribbon across it and a bow on the top. He pulled the top to the box off and pushed back the tissue paper to find a brand new leather duster. Black and soft to the touch as he ran his fingers over it gently.

"I know you already have your brown one, but I thought you'd look incredibly handsome in a brand new one. It just looked like it would fit you." She napped her fingers as she remembered the other items.

"And I got you something else, too," she piped up. "Over there in that bag."

"Chèrie . . ."

"It's nothing much," she preempted. "Go on, open it," she prodded.

Inside the bag was a pair of _Aviator_ designer lenses and a beautiful black lacquer lighter by Caran d'Ache. Remy gasped when he saw it. Turning it over in his hands reverently. "Mon Dieu," he exclaimed quietly.

Her heard Ororo laugh softly.

"I had hoped you'd like it."

"Like it? Ma chère . . . dis – it's too much. Dese lighters run in de thou—"

"It doesn't matter what it cost, Remy. You know that. It's just an affectionate gesture on my part."

"But why all dis, ma belle?"

Ororo paused in folding the shirt she was holding, her incredible blue eyes softening as they found his. "Because you make me happy," she said simply. She laid the shirt atop a pile and grabbed the stack of clothes and headed towards the dresser.

"The way you treat me, all you've done for me. It's just a small thank you," she told him. Her back was towards him while she placed the clothing neatly in the drawers. Ororo started when she felt the heat of his chest against her thin dress. He grabbed her arms, turning her around and took her mouth suddenly. Slow and deep. His lips moved over hers thoroughly, tightening his hold on her hips and pulling her into him, effectively leaving her wedged between the Cajun and the dresser.

Remy happily tasted her sweetness, her vulnerable confession egging and provoking him to just snatch her up and devour her whole. He sighed deeply at the pleasure of her soft curves against him.

"'Ro, can yo' père—"

"Mm, no, he can't. He was leaving with Moira when I came in."

"Good." He took her lips again, more urgent this time.

He reached his frenzied hands down between them. "Je t'aime, 'Ro." Unbuckling his belt quickly. " Aimez-vous," he vowed hotly.

"Remy . . ."

He clawed away any and all cloth between them. Ororo's blue eyes melting into white as thunder rattled the glass French doors of the balcony.

* * *

Translations

Je t'aime, Ororo. Aimez-vous = I love you, Ororo. Love you.


	37. Chapter 38

**Author's Note:** As always, thank you for the reviews :D Short update, a bite sized one =)  
Tamisha: Thank you for the kind words. As of now, I've only written X-Men fic. However, there are other fandoms I want to try my hand in =) [I'm writing another X-Men fic, currently, that I hope to post after this one is complete.]

* * *

**- 36 -**

Ororo tried to sit up under the firm pressure of Remy's body draped across her chest. Not that he was overly heavily, but Ororo did not want to wake him if she didn't have to. She exhaled softly, eyes falling down into the face of the Cajun sleeping atop her bare chest, his arms curled around her stomach, lifting with every rise and fall of her chest.

The tender scene made her grin – seeing Remy's mouth slighted parted, snoring lightly, reddish-brown hair subtly contrasting against the soft brown of her bare skin. Charmed, she let the auburn strands slide silkily through her slender fingers. Once. Twice. Until her whole hand was running through the tumbled tresses, gently caressing along his scalp. Her fingers drifted down to his face, (which was completely disarming in his slumber), and traced over the handsome lines of it with her fingertips. They brushed down his back, playing up and down his spine like the keys on the piano she used to play in her youth, and then, she felt a warm rumble of laughter vibrating against her.

"Ah, so he wakes," she said to him. He chuckled, and she laughed with him.

"Usin' someone fo' a piano, would wake anyone, chère," he complained groggily.

The irony of his remark amused her. "Well, whaddaya know, that's precisely what I was doing," she said to Remy. She ruffled his hair further, and he caught her hand.

"'S not like I mind, t'ough, chèrie." His eyes narrowed at her and he allowed a smirk to shape his lips, his head angled back to gaze up into her face while she continued her playing around in his hair.

"Oh yes, how I could I forget?" she giggled softly. "You are a very . . . tactile man, aren't you, Remy LeBeau?"

The Cajun propped himself up on an elbow, staring at her quietly a few moments. His gaze fell to the sheet that covered her, before grabbing it, pulling it back, and slowly lowering his head down near her exposed upper half.

"It depends, y' kno'—" His voice took on a deeper tone . . .

"—on whose doin' de touchin'."

. . . That, to Ororo, was undeniably sensual.

His warm mouth and lips were hot on her skin, the narrow valley between her breasts. "Remy . . ." She inhaled sharply. "We-we have to be up for breakfast, t-to get ready to head off with dad today," she objected weakly. Her hands found their way back into his hair even as she protested, arching off the bed with every nibble of his teeth, and sweep of his tongue.

With another sigh of contentment, Ororo relented under the increased pressure of Remy's ministrations. She guessed, perhaps, maybe one more hour in bed wouldn't make _that_ much of a difference.

— _**x**__ —_

After a shower – that Remy had insisted on joining in – and pulling on some clothes, the time passed was probably more like two hours. Ororo bounded down the stairs with Remy on her heels and headed directly for her father's study. Ororo pressed her ear to the door, listening for any sounds, before straightening up, and rapping on the door three times, her hand poised on the knob. She pushed the door open a sliver, and poked her head inside. Charles sat behind his desk with his hands steepled in front of him, looking as if he'd been expecting her all the while.

Ororo grinned sheepishly, before entering the room fully.

"Oh, hi, dad."

"Ororo."

Remy followed in behind her.

"Remy."

"Hey, Charles. Mornin'," the Cajun waved weakly. Though, "good afternoon" would have been more fitting, considering the time of day.

The two stood silently, glancing at each other, until Ororo cleared her throat, and shifted warily under Charles' gaze.

"Um, I'm sorry, dad. I slept in later than I should have."

Remy and Ororo glanced at each other, a silent look, and then back at Charles'. The Cajun looked as if he was fighting a grin, and Charles' own amusement was obvious.

"So I see."

". . ."

"Well," said Ororo after a few more moments, "are you still taking us—well, wherever you're taking us? I know we were supposed to go yesterday but—"

Xavier smiled and nodded, beckoning them on. "Yes. Come. I was waiting for you both."

Ororo let out a breath, and shot Remy a look, to which he just winked and chuckled. He held the door for 'Ro and Charles and closed it quietly behind them all.

Xavier stopped and turned back towards them. "Wait, you two haven't eaten this morning. Would like to have a bite first?"

Ororo looked to Remy, who shrugged noncommittally. "Umm, that's okay, dad. We've wasted enough time already. We can always get something on the way . . . if that's all right with you, Remy."

"D'accord, ma chère," he shrugged again.

"Yeah, we'll do that, dad," Ororo said to Xavier.

Charles nodded. "All right. Let's proceed then."

Remy and Ororo followed Xavier out front, to the waiting town car parked out front of the mansion. The chauffeur came to assist Charles into the vehicle, and Ororo waved him off with a grateful smile, assisting her father into the back herself.

"Ah, thank you, Ororo."

Ororo dove in fast, and kissed her father's hairless head with a loud smack. "Sure, dad." Remy grinned.

The driver carefully collapsed Charles' chair, and loaded it into the trunk, while Remy held the door open for Ororo, and slid in behind her once she was seated.

"Is Moira not coming?" Ororo asked, settling into her seat, reaching beside her to retrieve the safety belt.

Charles shook his head. "She said she'd call me if she was. She doesn't know how long she'll be in the lab tonight."

"Oh."

Ororo watched her father's face suspiciously. He looked overly pleased about something, and his apparent excitement over wherever he was taking them was hardly concealed. If she wasn't curious about all this since she arrived, she definitely was now.

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Might I ask where we going, now?"

"You can, but I will not tell you," he said to her.

Ororo balked. "And why not? Don't you think you held unto this little secret long enough?" she laughed softly.

"Ororo," Charles sighed, feigning greater exasperation with her than he really had. "It is a surprise."

Ororo shook her head and turned towards Remy. "Can you believe this guy?" she jerked her thumb in Charles' direction.

"I discussed it some with Remy at breakfast the other morning."

Ororo arched a brow at Remy. "He did?"

Remy laughed. "It wasn' like he tol' me much, chère. I don' kno' where we goin' either."

Ororo turned back towards her father. "So . . . " she stared at him and lifted her shoulders, "what _can_ you tell us?"

Xavier seemed to consider it for a moment, sitting up straighter before he replied. "I guess since we're en route it wouldn't hurt to tell you a little."

"How gracious of you."

Xavier shook his head at her. "There has been something that I've been considering for a while now. Even before you moved to New Orleans, Ororo. I was planning it, working on it. Ironing out the details. Moira has been helping me . . . I've even asked Jean to be a part of it, as well."

Now that was a surprise.

"Jean? Jean knows? About this?" Ororo screeched.

"Yes."

"Oh my—well, I'll be." Ororo fell back into her seat, her arms crossed, and an amazed expression on her face. She shook her head slowly.

"Does everyone know but me?"

"Are you angry, Ororo?"

"Dad, no, but th—"

"I want you to see it first; I want to be able walk you through it when I tell you. I want you to see my vision, Ororo. What I am doing—it's - it's a dream of mine."

"Wha—a dream of yours . . .?" He nodded and Ororo frowned, her brow crinkling as she sat back, exhaling deeply, and considered what it was he was telling her.

_A dream of his?_

Ororo shook her head again. _A dream of his_, she ruminated.

She gasped out loud suddenly when it dawned on her slowly. My God. She couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. If it was her father's dream – _Dr. Charles Francis Xavier's dream_ – then it could only involve one thing.

"So . . ." Her eyes flicked up to meet his directly, shaking her head slowly, disbelievingly, "this is about . . . mutants."

Remy's mouth parted, his eyes widening as the dots connected and it all began to make sense to him too. The other day – what Charles had said to him at breakfast:

_". . . All of this has much to do with why I asked Ororo to visit . . . . Helping mutants, Remy . . . . A broad reason, of course, but it does relate to why I wanted to have a discussion with Ororo in person . . . ."_

"Bien sûr . . ." he muttered to himself.

_How_ _astute_, Xavier mused. The twinkle in his eyes would have confirmed it, even if he hadn't spoken up and admitted it to them aloud. But it didn't go unnoticed by Ororo or Remy that Charles' looked a bit surprised that they'd figured it out.

"Yes, Ororo. It does. More than anything."

Ororo simply stared at her father, before turning towards Remy, who did his best to give her an encouraging smile, reaching across the seat to take her hand. She shot him a grateful half-smile.

"Don't draw any conclusions yet, Ororo," Xavier prompted. "Wait until we've arrived there, and I've explained everything to you. Because right now you do not seem . . . pleased."

"I'm not upset, dad," she sighed. "But honestly, I don't know what to think, or what conclusions to draw that's all. I still do not know enough. This is not—that has never been—"

She didn't finish her statement, just sighed again. "All right. I trust you, dad. I'll wait to hear you out first," she grinned softly.

"That's all I ask, for now. Thank you." Xavier reached forward and laid a placating hand on her knee.

Ororo, wiling to hear her father out, give him the benefit of the doubt, gave a good-natured roll of her eyes. Charles grinned.

"Good. Now, let's stop and eat somewhere. Before we get on the New Jersey Turnpike."

Ororo blanched, turning towards Remy, whose expression mirrored her own, and then back to her father.

"New Jersey Turnpike? Just _where_ are we going? !"

Xavier sat back and answered with a wide grin. Certainly, it couldn't hurt to tell them _now_.

"Westchester. New York."

* * *

Translations:

Bien sûr = Of course


	38. Chapter 39

**Author's Note: **The next update will be the last chapter and a brief epilogue will probably follow after that. Thank you to all that's been reading the story. Even when it sucked, the writing was bad, and the wait for updates was looooong in coming. There were so many times I didn't want to finish this story and someone's review(s) nudged me on. (Quick Tip: If you want your favorite fic-writers to continue writing a story that you enjoy, be sure to show them love with reviews. It is the only reward they get for taking their time to pen the stories you enjoy) This was a BIG learning process for me, and it taught me much as far as writing fan fic goes. Thanks for the kind words and reviews. Very sorry for this long a/n. I'm done :D

* * *

**- 37 –**

It hadn't seemed so to her at first, but now Ororo was under the impression that the dinner Charles had treated her and Remy to had not been simply to fill the emptiness of their rumbling stomachs.

Not entirely.

In actuality, she figured it had been a way for Charles to ease her into whatever it was he planned to spring on her once they arrived in Westchester. Softening her up a bit by feeding her, perhaps? At least that's how it seemed. Especially now, as the sleek town car, slowly entered through the yawning gates of a wildly unfamiliar estate.

Add to that imposing, she was able to note as they came closer upon the house. Just what was Charles up to?

Anxious, restlessly sitting in the back of the car, Ororo leaned towards the tinted window and looked through the glass.

"Oh my—whose estate is this?" she wondered out loud, falling momentarily silent afterward. Her eyes located a brass plaque mounted beside the gates. She strained to read it, but wasn't able to see clearly enough what was written on it. Instead, she focused in on the large emblem that was engraved on the front of the gate, forming a bold, shiny "X" in the center, surrounded by a thick circle.

"X for Xavier," Ororo murmured to herself.

Face shining with realization, Ororo tore her eyes from it, and stared at Charles.

"This is your estate," she intoned softy. "The X on the front gates . . . _You_ own all this." The soft tone of her voice carried with it a hint of wonder.

Ororo continued staring at her father, but wasn't able to make out the unreadable expression on his face. It was mixed to her, and she couldn't rightly put a finger on any of the emotions he seemed to reflect. Charles answered her with a slight nod of his head.

"Yes, I do. And you haven't even seen the half of it."

Ororo made a small grunt of agreement. "I'm sure I haven't."

He looked as if he was excited, but also anxious. Pleased, yet with some trepidation. It made her wonder—why? Should she, too, be disconcerted about this whole business? 'Ro gazed at her father levelly, giving the impression she was working out something in her mind. She turned back again to peer out of the window.

Ororo, however, wasn't the only one with ponderings about the strange new estate and all the unanswered questions that surrounded it. Remy had not spoken much since the three of them had left the restaurant, but he too, was interested. Conversation, in general, had been little anyway during the roughly three-hour drive. If either Xavier or Ororo had discussed anything of import during the ride, then he wouldn't have known either way, since he had easily dozed off twenty minutes or so after leaving the restaurant. The inescapable effect of a potent combination of good food, a full stomach, and a comfortable ride in the luxury cars backseat nestled near Ororo, lulling him into a quiet slumber.

The situation taking place before him presently was between father and daughter, Remy figured. With that in mind, the Cajun firmly resolved to keep his own opinions and comments to a minimum. He watched both Ororo and Charles carefully, but kept silent with his own observations, doing his darnest to let the chips fall where they may, and let to allow whatever happened between father and daughter to pan out accordingly. All in all, he kept his burning curiosities to himself. Still, he felt an inkling of concern, wondering what was going on in his girl's mind right now, and what conclusions she had drawn, if any.

The Lincoln rolled up the drive, coming to a stop at the front entrance. It still had not registered with her just how massive the house and grounds were, the mansion sitting on several sprawling acres. Neither she nor Remy had noticed the workers milling about the front until they both stepped out of the car, pausing in their gawking to help Charles from the back of the vehicle. He got out, and sunk into his retrieved wheelchair with an "ah", rolling up alongside Ororo and Remy.

"So, here we are at last," said Xavier.

He grinned softly at the couple, both standing with their mouths slightly, wondrously gazing up at the palatial home.

"Well, Remy, Ororo . . . what do you think so far?"

"Think?"

Remy's black/red eyes widened. "Mon Dieu."

"Well, I for one, think I am confused," Ororo interjected. "Are you moving here? Is this a new place your—?"

She left off, her forehead creased in confusion.

"Mmmm, in a manner," Xavier hummed responsively.

"Look big 'nuff t' be a school," Remy chimed.

Xavier smiled at him. "It is. Or will be, rather."

"What? Really?"

Ororo whirled around and faced her father.

He nodded. And then, suddenly, invitingly, threw his arms wide open.

"Welcome to _Charles Xavier's_ _Institute for Higher Learning_!"

* * *

The walked on through the halls of the near empty mansion, their footfalls echoing with every step. Ororo could only gawk in awe at its incredible interior, carefully taking in the beautiful moldings, and interior designs. She gripped Remy's hand tight, while Xavier took the lead. Guiding them through the wide halls and rooms that—according to her father—would be future classrooms. Actual furniture was scarce in nearly all the mansions rooms, except for Charles' office, (which he'd told her was completely furnished and functional), and the future cafeteria, already dotted with cylindrical lunch tables and accompanying chairs. The sparse furnishings outside of those two rooms were few, notwithstanding some landscape portraits decking the walls, and a couple plush lounge chairs and sofas in a sitting room, white sheets draped over them protectively. The hardwood floors were polished and shiny, along with the glistening, modernized kitchen, with its gleaming, stainless steel appliances and marbled counter-tops.

Having practically seen the entire inside (including the spacious attic loft) Charles led them out back of the mansion, where several workers on ladders labored unidentifiably on something atop the roof. They stepped unto yet another veranda, looking out and discovering the basketball court, and a pool house beyond that. Needless to say, with the various shrubberies and neat landscaping, the view was impressive. The grounds themselves were gorgeous.

"This place . . . dad, it's gorgeous." Ororo waved broadly at her surroundings. "The flooring, the elevators, the different levels . . . it's all amazing."

"Absolutement. 'Roro's right, Charles. Dis place is somethin'," Remy agreed with a nod.

"Thank you. I'm glad you both think so."

"I can only imagine what it will look like when you're finished. When everything is furnished and setup in the classrooms. It'll be extraordinary."

"I believe it will," Xavier responded proudly. "And I knew you'd think so. I cannot tell you how excited I was to show you all this. I had purchased this place nearly four months before you even left for New Orleans. And I've kept it a secret, since then. Moira was the only other one who knew about this. I wanted you to come back and see it for yourself. And I'm glad Remy could join us in sharing this moment, as well."

"Remy glad he was able t', mon ami."

Remy saluted Charles, and Charles nodded in his direction, beaming happily.

"You've been a busy man, huh? A very busy man," muttered Ororo softly, still staring out at the beautiful grounds from where they stood on the veranda.

"So . . . " She exhaled, reluctantly tearing away from the charming view to face her father.

"This is going to be a school for mutant children."

"You are correct. I, and the rest of the staff and faculty here, will provide all the usual classes and courses that any other institute would, but additionally, uniquely, about their mutation, and their powers. How to better control them – methods, techniques, and of course, using them ethically. We will properly educate them so that they learn and understand who and what they are, and when they leave this place, they'll be the better for it."

"And, to provide a safe haven for them to discover all of this in," Ororo voiced, instinctively. Knowingly grasping her father's concept, with clarity that surprised even her. Charles must have thought so as well because he smiled broadly at her and nodded deeply.

"Indeed. That is my dream—my hope."

"And Jean? Where is she involved in this?"

"I have asked her to be part of the medical staff, as well as teach a class or two."

"And Moira?"

"She'll be teaching one of the classes, but primarily helping with the science department and laboratory research. Her, along with another doctor that I plan to hire to assist in research."

"Who?" she inquired out of curiosity.

"I have not chosen one of yet. There are many brilliant doctors that qualify but, one I've been considering is your colleague, Dr. Henry McCoy. I spoke with him over the phone after you gave me his card and we've discussed the position. Nothing is set in stone, but he seemed very excited about the prospect."

"Oh my goodness!" gasped Ororo. "Well, I guess he did! Hank raved about you. He practically begged me to give you his card the last dinner before we left."

"How humble of him, since with his genius and résumé, I should be begging him."

"He'd be pleased to know you said that."

Ororo smiled. "Remy, love, do you hear this?"

"I hear it, chèrie; all o' it sounds amazin'."

And it did. Of that he was sincere. Still, there was something that had yet to be answered. And just as if she had sensed his feelings on it, Ororo's smile faded slowly, the excited look on her face dimmed, morphing to one of seriousness. They'd seen the mansion, learned about Moira, Jean, and possibly Hank all having a part of _the dream_.

Only one unknown variable was left in the picture that was slowly, but surely, coming together.

Ororo smiled gently at Remy and squeezed his hand. She turned back to her father before asking the million dollar question:

"Now . . . just what do _I_ have to do with all this, dad?"

Ororo and Remy looked on quietly, patiently, waiting to hear the answer.

Xavier inhaled deeply, beckoning them forward with a gesture of his hand.

"Come, we'll go into the office and speak."

* * *

Back in the office, silence stretched. Her mind so preoccupied with thoughts that she couldn't fully appreciate the new offices sophisticated aesthetic. Or the feel of the soft cushion beneath her.

She just wanted to know.

"I believe I've kept you in the dark long enough, waiting for answers," Charles spoke. "I won't delay in asking what it is I want of you."

"Much obliged, dad."

Ororo shrugged a shoulder. "So, what is it then?"

". . . I want you to be a part of the staff here at the Institute – with me, Moira, and Jean."

"Wha—what?"

Both pairs of eyes held affixed the others in a mutual stare-off between father and daughter. Ororo's eyes blinked rapidly in disbelief, her countenance filled full of surprise, wonder, and shock.

Across from her, Remy's eyes stretched, his scarlet orbs resembling saucers. Of all the possible scenarios and conclusions he'd drawn since Ororo had first told him about Charles' request for her return home, this was one he had not imagined. With a wary glance in her direction, it was clear to him she hadn't imagined it either. She sat gaping.

"I won't even bother asking you if you're serious, dad, because I know you are. It's just hard to believe."

His dark brows furrowed, wrinkling his forehead. "That I want my family—my daughter, to share in my dream of providing a safe haven for young mutants? A place for them to learn and grow without fear of hostility? Rejection? That I want you to be a part of it?"

'Ro scoffed. "There is more to it than that and you know it. There are far-reaching implications here, which would not only affect me. Dad, have you forgotten that I'm already part of a staff? In a clinic? In New Orleans?" asked Ororo.

"Yes, I am fully aware of all this, Ororo. Be assured, I've considered it all. And that's exactly what I'm asking you to do now."

"To consider being a part of the school?"

"Exactly."

"Doing what, precisely?"

Charles brightened considerably at the question, causing Ororo to gaze narrowly at him circumspectly.

"Doing the same thing you are doing in New Orleans at Valhalla."

At that, Ororo frowned, confused. "Psychiatry?"

"Yes."

Her bewildered expression eased, replaced by genuine curiosity. She sighed softly and sat back in the chair, intrigued.

"I don't understand."

By now it was late afternoon, and the sun had started to set, casting an orange glow on the room and the people in it, emanating from the large window behind Xavier's desk. The light shining behind him cast his face in a light shadow. Quietly, he approached them in his chair, closing the distance between them and drawing closer.

"As you've probably guessed, there are numerous prospective students for the school . . . "

"Go on."

"One of those students is a girl particularly close to Moira. Her name is Rahne Sinclair. She was born in Kinross, Scotland, same as Moira, to a catholic priest, virtually unwanted by both her father and her mother."

"What is her mutation?"

"Lycanthropy."

Remy and Ororo cast uneasy glances between each other.

"We're listening."

He continued. "Her father was an alcoholic, his name is Reverend Craig. He was cruel to her, and extremely unkind. Needless to say, her upbringing was difficult."

"Poor girl."

"Her father's relentless mistreatment made her—"

"Repressed, introverted, incredibly shy?"

Charles smirked at his daughter's intuitiveness. "Exactly."

Ororo nodded understandingly. Xavier sighed. "Her powers manifested when she was thirteen. When it did, her father and some of his fanatical followers gathered together and attempted to perform an exorcism on her by burning her at the stake to get rid of the 'devil' in her.

"Oh my . . ."

"Mon Dieu . . ."

Both exclaimed at once.

"She morphed into her wolf state and attempted to escape them by running away. One of her pursuers shot at her and grazed her with a bullet. She continued trying to run, but was inexperienced with her powers and weakened by the injury. Before being captured, she happened upon Moira, collapsing finally and reverting back to her normal form. Moira helped her out the village and took her to her home, taking care of her and treating her wounds. The young Miss Sinclair was very grateful, as the kindness was foreign to her, and unexpected. She and Moira bonded, to this day they're very close."

"That's wonderful," said Ororo softly.

"Rahne still suffers from the mental anguish inflicted by her father, however. Moira tells me she regularly has intense bouts of melancholia and self-loathing. Rahne told Moira that whenever she looks into a mirror all she sees is the devil her father told her she was all those years."

A tear nearly escaped from the corner of Ororo's eye and she swiped it away swiftly before it fell.

"Those are the types of students that will be coming through these doors. With pasts and stories similar to Rahne Sinclair's. I won't beat around the bush. I want your expertise. I want your skills, and more importantly, I want my future students to know your compassion. You, yourself, being a mutant, will be able to empathize, added on top of your therapeutic skills. That's why I want you here. Why I need you here, Ororo. Because _they'll_ need you here."

_Overwhelmed_ was a fitting word to describe what she was feeling. Another was _touched_. Ororo turned and looked at Remy, really looking at him for the first time since they'd come into the office, wiping away the dampness in her eyes before directly finding Remy's own. She reached out a hand towards him, and he caught it half-way. He bent and placed a kiss on the back of her palm. Ororo sniffed. The smile she gave him tender.

"Ororo."

Xavier gently interrupted. "This is an incredibly large proposition I've laid in your lap," he told her. "But I want you to take all you've seen today, all you've learned, and all we've discussed, and consider it very strongly. Will you do that for me, please?

She nodded. "Of course, dad." She sniffed again. "Of course I will."

Ororo had left the office, saying she was going to stroll through the mansion a second time before they were to leave, headed back for Baltimore. Remy, however, stayed—at Charles' behest. When they were the only ones in the room, Xavier cleared his throat, speaking up.

"I hope you didn't feel ignored while Ororo and I talked, Remy."

"Non, non."

Remy vigorously shook his head.

"Yo' her père, she's yo' daughter. Ya'll had impo'tant t'ings t' discuss. I don' mind."

"Yes, but . . . Ororo is your lover."

Remy hesitated a moment, proceeding cautiously. "Oui."

"And if she chooses to accept a position here, in Westchester, when the school opens, no doubt, this will affect your relationship. I know this is something you and Ororo must discuss personally, but I hope you'd feel comfortable sharing your thoughts with me about this. Please, feel free to be honest with me. What are your thoughts and feelings on this, Remy?"

He was unprepared to answer, because he was unprepared for the question. It was too soon to provide an answer, one of any substance anyway. Xavier was right—he did need to speak with Ororo about it. But what, at this moment, could he tell her father? Only the truth.

"I honestly, don' kno', Charles. I t'ink wha' yo' plannin' is_ très incroyable_, I really do. An' I t'ink 'Ro would prob'ly love it, I saw it in her eyes while ya'll were talkin' . . . but . . . I dunno where dat would leave me an' her . . . an'—"

He paused. Shoving a hand through his hair and sighed deeply. "—An' I can' lose her. I jus'—Remy could never accept dat. I don' kno' where dat leaves us."

The older man nodded solemnly. Inside, feeling a ghost of pride in behalf of his daughter. And towards the young man sitting in front of him – respect.

"I shouldn't be askin' you this when you haven't even had a chance to speak with Ororo, and I'm sorry. I—I do not want you to feel as if I'm deliberately intruding on what you've built with Ororo. On the contrary; I had been executing this vision long before I knew of your relationship with Ororo. You and she were a delightful surprise—to all of us."

"I kno'. I don' feel dat way at all. No worries dere."

"Good. Because I meant it when I said you were a 'delightful surprise', especially since . . . I believe there is a place for you here as well . . ."

The Cajun froze, lifting his head slowly, meeting Xavier's look of calm passivity.

"Que?"

* * *

She'd found her way back up to the lonely attic loft. There was something about it, she couldn't name directly, but she liked it. She'd came up after leaving Remy and Xavier in the office, and opened the doors to the small balcony in the loft, standing out on it while a gentle breeze passed through and ruffled the white hair of head in the growing darkness outside, fluttering her skirts.

Night had completely fallen when Remy came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her, and nestled his prickly chin on the soft skin of her shoulder.

"Mmm. 'S nice up here, non?"

"My thoughts exactly," she chuckled softly.

He smiled, and they both stood quietly for several minutes. Breathing gently, comfortably resting in the mutual embrace.

"Me an' Charles had a little talk," he told her.

She turned to look over her shoulder at him. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hm. It was . . . interestin'."

"All of this has been, yeah?"

"Y' right on dat, chèrie."

Again, they fell silent. Remy quickly kissed her shoulder and grabbed one of her hands.

"Come on, chère. 'S time t' be headin' down, we got some t'ings t' discuss once we get back."


	39. Chapter 40

**- 38 –**

The ride back home was one made in complete silence. For in less than half an hour on the road back to Westchester, all the tired occupants in the plush backseat of the town car had succumbed involuntarily to the lure of sleep. Not that any of them had much to say – they'd all been distracted within the realm of their own thoughts. Ororo had remained preoccupied the rest of the time, Remy had been thoughtful, and Charles was pensive.

The vehicle finally came to a stop in front of Charles' home at something to four. Tired and weary from the long trip, they all immediately bid each other goodnight and respectively scrambled off to bed, carelessly shedding their clothes and shoes, leaving them in a discarded pile on the floor. The last thing Remy had heard before drifting asleep after feeling Ororo plant a kiss on the side of his neck was a whispered, "I love you." Instantly fading off after that, with a tiny grin on his lips.

The next day, Ororo was the first to wake, rising early in the afternoon after having slept in rather late - awake, but still tired; up yet still partially groggy. It had been a long night. It was an effort on her part to leave the cools sheets and the surrounding warmth of Remy's body. She sat up on the edge of the bed, stifling a yawn with her hand, and turned to look over her shoulder at Remy, still sleeping soundly in tangled sheets. Not wanting to wake him, she silently left the bed, grabbing her various toiletries, and quietly tip-toed out of the room, down the hall into one of the spare bathrooms.

Later after she had finished, Ororo returned and stood in front of her bedroom door and leaned in closely. She turned her head, ear pressed against the door, listening for any sound that signified he had awakened. She heard soft snores filtered through the door, and she smiled to herself, deciding to head downstairs and make breakfast – he could eat when awoke.

Before heading into the kitchen, Ororo made a quick detour and came to her father's study. She didn't think he was there, but she knocked anyway. Hearing nothing, Ororo opened the door, and just as she'd expected, found it empty. She glanced around causally, looking over at Charles' desk and saw a brightly colored post-it slightly curled up on the glossy surface. Curiously, she picked it up, and scanned over it quickly.

_At the lab with Moira, then off to a meeting with Erik. Will see you when I return. And Ororo – take your time thinking this over. Make sure it's a decision you want. Remember, there is no hurry.  
- Dad_

She exhaled softly, closing the door to his study behind her. She was glad no one was there in the kitchen when she got there, Lilandra, most likely, having gone off to attend other duties after she'd made breakfast that morning. She relished that, being alone in the kitchen by herself where she would be able to think. There certainly hadn't been much thinking after coming home last night as she'd practically passed out as soon as her head had hit the pillow.

But she woke and the dilemma was still there, staring her in the face. She needed Remy; she couldn't figure all of it out on her own. In Westchester yesterday, the time spent on the balcony outside the attic loft ruminating, while Charles and Remy spoke with each other had been insightful. Because it wasn't about her only, but it also concerned Remy. Whatever the outcome, she would not leave Remy, she determined—she _could not_ leave Remy.

Ororo rummaged through the refrigerator and cabinets, humming while setting the food on top of the counter. Remy should be up stirring by now.

— _**x**_ _—_

Ororo ascended the stairs, carefully balancing the tray of food in her hands. She stopped at the door, and chanced holding the tray with one hand – biting down on her lip in concentration – while using her free hand to twist open the door, nudging it open the rest of the way with her foot. She set the tray down on a desk, and opened up the bathroom door slightly to see Remy's blurry form through the glass shower stall.

"Remy?"

She heard him sputter over the sound of the water in reply. "Phff—yeah, chère?"

"Just wanted to let you know I'm out here when you're done, okay?"

"Y' sure y' don' wanna join, chère?" he said. She could practically hear him smiling as he asked, more than likely that mischievous, cheeky one of his that he loved to flash so often.

"I've already showered," she laughed, smiling at the sound of the disappointed groan he let out. "I'll talk to you when you get out." She closed the door, and quickly rain back downstairs to grab the cup of tea she'd left steeping on the kitchen counter and walked back upstairs, just returning to find the Cajun out of the shower, dressed, and tearing into his breakfast with fervor.

Ororo set the cup and saucer beside Remy, pulling up a chair and sinking into it. She brought both her long legs up lotus style, retrieving the cup for a sip of the fragrant jasmine brew.

"Are you going to leave some for me?"

Ororo nodded towards the near half-finished dishes, previously filled with food. The waffles, sausage, and omelet she'd prepared had all but been eaten.

The fork paused near Remy's mouth, his rust-colored brow lifting thoughtfully.

"Y' wan' some?"

Ororo laughed at his serious expression. All that was left really was a small fruit bowl she'd made on the side. She reached forward and plucked out a sizeable chunk of pineapple. "Thank you for your generosity." She leaned back, fruit in hand, and eyed him playfully.

"Remy's a gen'rous man, chère," he said, hands outstretched in a show of just how generous.

She rolled her eyes.

"T'ank y' fo' breakfast, belle. It was très bon."

"You're welcome."

He grinned at her, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

"Is, uh, Charles gone?" Remy asked, the long silence unconsciously prompting him to speak in quiet tones.

"Yeah. He left a note saying he'd be home later."

He nodded, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. Another moment passed and the reluctant Cajun at last mustered about the courage to bring the conversation around to what Xavier had propositioned last night

"So . . . what we gon' do, chère?" What are y' plannin' on doin' concernin' all dis?

Ororo stared down at the golden brew in her cup. "Honestly, Remy, I don't know." She sighed shortly. "I'm still a bit shocked. It was a lot for one day."

He nodded again.

"But what I do know, is that I would never do anything – or go anywhere – that would take me from you." Her eyes lifted to find his, and he was struck by the determination in her gaze.

"Did y' t'ink fo' one minute y' could?" Remy drawled with a smirk. His head lifted, unique red-on-black eyes tapering in on her. Her own blue orbs brightened, simultaneously along with the luminous smile that made its way across her face.

"No, never. Not for a moment."

He leaned towards her, cupping the back of her neck and drawing her gently forward, finally taking her lips in a slow, languorous caress. 'Ro's eyelids nearly fluttered at the feel of them, soft, warm, and pressed up against hers. She had no idea what those words meant to him. The unspoken apprehension that had seemingly settled between them since yesterday vanished in the warmth of their kiss, freeing them both from the fear of a looming separation.

'Ro released a wistful sigh and drew back, standing up to cross the room over to the bed. She crawled on top, the mattress sinking slightly beneath her. Remy watched her leaning back against the pillows, and when she was settled, hold out her hand in invitation for him to join her. He wasted no time crawling unto the bed behind her, pulling her into arms, and resting his long legs on either side of her body. She sighed contentedly and for a moment, he just relished the feel of her there, braced in his arms.

"Firs' t'ings firs', chère . . . Now dat dat's outta de way, wha' is it y' wanna do? Do y' wanna help yo' father, chèrie?" he asked, though in reality, he was quite sure that he already knew the answer.

"Well, I—"

Another brow rose, as if daring her to say the lie poised on the tip of her tongue.

She stared at him. Her face fell in resignation, and she began to nod slowly.

"Yes. I . . . do want to help my father."

Remy let a knowing half-smile crease his lips, giving her a look that said he clearly had already known as much. The sardonic expression caused a brief spike of fear to run through her, and she wonder minutely if he was disappointed at her answer. She asked him.

"Does that upset you?" The question came out small, meek.

"Absolument pas!" Remy exclaimed. "Why do y' t'ink dat would upset me, chère?"

She shifted to stare up directly into his face. "Remy, I'd have to leave New Orleans. And if we are planning on staying together then that would mean you'd have to join me. It would mean you leaving New Orleans. You do realize that?"

Remy opened his mouth as if to answer, but Ororo continued further. "I mean, how could I ask that of you? I can't ask that from you, Remy. I wouldn't expect you to do that."

"You wouldn' expect me t' follow _anywhere_ de woman dat I plan on marryin' one day?"

Ororo's mouth parted in disbelief, and instantly fell silent. Her blue eyes stretched so far, and so wide, they seemed to take up half her face. He met her shocked expression with a wry half grin, boldly holding her gaze, never once blinking. She stared at him a long moment before sitting up fully and staring him down with suddenly narrowed eyes.

"You—" she slowly shook her head from side to side and let out a short burst of uncertain laughter. "Plan on m-marrying . . . me?"

He stared at her, his gaze intent, serious, and piercing. So much so that she shivered slightly under the scrutiny. The red of his eyes seemed to glow just that much brighter.

"Absolutement."

The awed expression she wore slowly morphed into one of joy, and her lips curled into a blinding smile, making her blue eyes sparkle like diamonds. "Oh, Remy . . . I don't—I can't be—"

He smiled at her flustering, the slight flush of red that suffused her dark skin, lifting her head by the chin and taking her lips softly. "I love you."

"Remy . . . Remy, I love you so much."

He grinned near her lips. "Dat's why we're gonna make dis work, chère."

"How?"

"I talked t' yo' père after y' left. He told me dat dere's a vacant building in a place called Salem Center in Westchester, not far from de school. It used t' be a bar slash restaurant called _Harry's_. I figured it might just as well be called '_Remy's'_. Sounds better, non?"

Ororo's stunned expression returned. She shook her head slowly. "But . . . what about The Guild back home in New Orleans? What would happen to it?"

"Henri can manage it. He loves it and he's actually really good at it. When I was goin' t'rough de mess wit' Anna, I was hardly ever dere, and he was basically running it on his own."

"Remy, I have to say, I feel awful thinking you'd be giving up so much for me. On top of that, New Orleans is your home. You love it."

"I love _you_."

"Oh, Remy . . ."

She stared at him with a sad barely-formed smile. It hardly seemed fair.

"It hardly seems fair to me, Remy."

"Chère, if we're gon' be t'gether den we're gon' have t' learn 'bout give an' take. Dere'll be times we'll have t' give up somet'ings fo' one 'nother. It's jus' how it works."

Ororo sighed, staring down at her hands.

"Plus, while we're dere maybe I can learn a lil' mo' 'bout my mutation, non? Both of us can. I t'ink yo' makin' yo'self feel worse 'bout dis dan y' should. It's gon' take some readjustin' fo' both o' us at first, but we'll do it, chère. Dis' is gon' be a good t'ing, fo' de both o' us."

Ororo moved and flung her arms around him, eyes beginning to wet with tears. "I love you so much," she murmured into his shoulder. "I really do."

He stroked gently at her back, her hair. "I kno', chère." He pressed his lips to her forehead and looked down into her face, wiping away the dampness around her eyes with his thumb, flashing her an encouraging smile.

"All right," she sniffed. "But . . . I'm not letting you do all the sacrificing. We'll give and take together; just like you said. My father and I will just have to have a compromise. I've got a plan. I'm going to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Summers' about it first, and if everything works out there and they agree then I'm going to tell my father and see how he feels about it. It's the only way I'll agree."

Remy looked at her a moment, a slightly confused frown graced his face. "Wha' y' got in mind, chère?"

Ororo sniffed, pulling back completely. "Well . . ."

* * *

"And I'd split my time between there and New Orleans, at least for the time. Specifically during the summer months when school is out; I'll remain in New Orleans. My presence at the school will depend on how many students there need my help. I'm sure the number will fluctuate with every new class that comes in. I may not be needed so much at times anyway," Ororo told her father.

Charles lightly drummed his fingers atop his desk, and sighed thoughtfully.

"There are other classes you can teach, Ororo, on top of helping with the counseling. I hoped eventually you would consider taking one on. Many of the teachers will have more than one duty or teach more than one subject, including Jean."

"And when that time comes, I will consider it," she replied. "But you must understand, dad. I _want_ to do this; I want to help you and be a part of what you're doing. I'm excited to even. But, I do have a life in New Orleans, and Remy does, too. I'm doing this for both of us. This way we all gain, and we all compromise; it only seems right."

She stared at her father a moment. "Now, I spoke with Emma and her husband earlier, and when Remy and I head back to New Orleans the day after tomorrow I'll be scheduling a meeting with her to iron out details. I cannot neglect my responsibilities at Valhalla, and I wouldn't feel right doing so. I can remain in New Orleans and practice part-time, and I can stay in Westchester at the school part-time, and I won't have to abandon any of my responsibilities. If you can agree to this, then consider me part of the staff at Xavier's Institute for Higher Learning."

Her father simply stared at her. He nodded slowly.

Ororo gave him a brief smile and stood. "I'm going to go see if Lilandra and Moira need help cleaning up dinner. I'll leave you time to consider, just as you did for me. When you've made your decision let me know."

He bowed his head solemnly, giving her a single nod.

Ororo nodded in return. Her hand poised on the knob, she turned back slightly and muttered softly, "I love you, dad." And without further words, left the room.

Ororo stood outside the door and leaned on it a few moments in silent thought. Hearing footsteps, she looked up to see Moira coming down the hall.

"Aye, my cailin."

"Hi, Moira."

"Ye alright, lass?"

"I'm fine. Just thinking."

"About Charlie and the school?"

"That and other things. I agreed to join the school under certain conditions. I'm just waiting to see if _he'll_ _agree_ to them."

"'Tis a lot he's put on yer plate, lass. No need tae fret. Everything will work out, I'm sure o' it."

Ororo hugged the other woman briefly. "I know. I'm sure it will, too."

Ororo watched Moira disappear into Charles' office, and left to find Remy. She found him sitting on the patio, lazily smoking on a cigarette. He grinned at her as she approached.

"Aye, chère."

He patted his lap and she obliged happily, burying her face in his neck. The smell of him, it nearly made her swoon. She gripped him tighter, pressing her lips against the warmth of his neck.

"Y' talk t' yo', père?"

He felt Ororo nod against him. "I told him that when he's reached a decision for him to call me." She shrugged. "Ball's in his court. I've made my decision."

"So," Remy stubbed out his cigarette, "what we do now, chère? While we wait?"

Ororo sat back and looked up at him, a grin strangely reminiscent of his own lining her face. She whispered low in his ear and Remy's eyes stretched. She drew back and one whitened brow rose challengingly.

"Sounds good t' me, girl." Ororo laughed as he scooped her up, and near ran with her all the way up the stairs.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thanks all.


	40. Chapter 41

**Author's Notes:** Just a short update.** ***Warning***** Gets a wee bit steamy at the end. Just a forewarning :)  
This chapter will end Part 2 of this story. Part 3 will be a oneshot chronicling the opening day of Remy's new establishment, and it will be the official chapter 40.**  
**** Repeat! ****** There **will** be a **chapter 40**. It will be added to this story & not posted as a whole new fic. (I intend to go back and revise/revamp this story sometime in the future anyway) Also, if you're interested, please check out my new fic titled: "Forgotten Fates" either listed on my profile or in the X-Men: Movie category. Thanks, all :D

* * *

- **39 -**

"And how did Moira taking you in make you feel?"

The young girl's frown was thoughtful. "Well," she started tentatively. "I guess I felt . . . for the first time . . . like I was . . . wanted."

Ororo nodded encouragingly, "Go on."

"And . . . I felt Ms. Moira really wanted me and that felt good. That she really cared. I-I wasn't used to that sort of thing," she told Ororo in a soft Scottish accent.

'Ro smiled at her. "It should have."

Rahne Sinclair smiled softly back.

"Rahne?" Ororo said after several seconds.

The girl looked up from where she sat staring down at her shoes, lifting her head to meet Ororo's earnest gaze.

"You should expect people to be kind to you. You know?"

The girl blinked at Ororo.

"Not everyone is like your father," she explained gently. "There are many Dr. MacTaggert's in the world to balance it out those who would behave cruelly."

The small smile Ororo gave the girl was kind and spoke of silent empathy. It made the young teenager blush shyly. Her skittish blue-green eyes darted around nervously, self-consciously, tugging at the ends of her short red strands of hair. Ororo had begun to jot down her notes when she heard the girl speaking to her.

"Um, I'm sorry, Rahne? Would you please repeat that?"

"I-I said I guess you're right . . . about people treating you kindly."

Ororo looked at her.

"Since school started, I've met a lot of the other students. And at first I was scared because . . . I didn't think they would like me. They'd think I was weird or something . . . but they didn't. I think I've begun to make some friends and I'm not so afraid anymore, Ms. Ororo."

Ororo smiled brightly. "That's wonderful. Very, very, wonderful. I'm happy for you."

For the third time during their session that day, the young Scottish girl blushed deeply.

"You've done a great job today, Miss Sinclair. I hope that serves to encourage you until we meet and continue the progress next week."

"Okay."

The young mutant gave a Ororo a wide grin and slid off the couch.

"Have a good afternoon, Rahne."

"You, too, Ms. Ororo. And thank you."

Ororo smiled and waved her goodbye as the door shut closed behind her.

Capping her pen, Ororo quickly glanced at her watch and stood, hurriedly packing up her things, grabbing her keys and throwing on her jacket before clicking off the light switch and locking the door. She stopped at her father's office before knocking twice and taking a quick peek inside. She found Charles looking over a packet of papers with Dr. McCoy.

Like her, Hank McCoy had agreed to work part-time at the Institute while still maintaining his responsibilities at Valhalla. Though, his travels back and forth were less frequent since Charles had another researcher/scientist in one Dr. Moira MacTaggert. Additionally, the Summers' had hired a new doctor at the psychiatry clinic. A gifted, highly intelligent raven-haired woman by the name of Tessa Hartley. Her ability and talents had earned her the nickname "Sage" – the moniker affectionately given by former colleagues for her reputation as an exceptionally brilliant psychiatrist.

"Hey, dad. Dr. McCoy."

"Hello, Ororo. How are you this afternoon?"

"Oh, I'm good Dr. McCoy. How is everything coming along with you?"

"I am coming along fine, Ororo. Charles and I were just wrapping up if you—"

"Oh, no, no, no. I just stopped in to tell him I'm leaving. I'm heading out to lunch; just wanted to say goodbye."

"Well, have a good lunch then, Ororo," Charles said. "Say hello to Remy for me."

"I will, dad. Take care."

"Oh! How is it going with the girl?"

"Good," she smiled. "Really good. I'll speak to you about it later."

"Of course, have a good lunch."

"Thanks. I'll see you both. Bye dad, Hank."

"Bye, Ororo." "Goodbye, daughter."

"She's doing wonderfully, isn't she?" Henry asked after she had left. Charles stared at the spot she had just vacated and beamed proudly.

"Yes, she is. I could not imagine having done this without her."

* * *

"Did y' see her when y' left?"

". . . ."

"Jean. Jean?" Remy snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"Yeah—Yes?" She turned and blinked at him. Logan chuckled gruffly.

"Did y' see, 'Roro when you left?"

Jean swallowed her drink. "She was working still when I left the school."

Remy sighed.

"She may be running late because a session ran over."

"She'll be here, Gumbo," Logan added. "Right, Red?" Jean turned to look at him. Logan winked at her and she blushed, giggling.

Remy frowned at the both of them. They'd been at it ever since Logan had arrived last week, helping Remy with preparations for the new bar. Remy drew out his phone to call Ororo when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Miss me?" Ororo smiled down at him. He stood and embraced her.

"I know, sorry I'm late. Session went long."

"Glad y' got here, chèrie. Now I won' have t' be alone wit' dese two." He jerked his thumb in Jean and Logan's direction. Ororo set down between him and Logan, laughing softly and removed her suit jacket. "How are you, Logan? Remy making you work hard enough?"

"He's a slave-driver, darlin'. I'd rather be his friend than his employee, I'll tell ya that much." The Cajun rolled his eyes at his friend.

"I can't wait to see it finished."

"Less den two mo' months, girl."

"I know. It'll be so exciting. I bet you and Logan are doing a great job."

"I agree with Ororo, Logan. I bet you're doing great."

Remy and Ororo shot each other amused looks. "Could you be any more obvious Jean?" Ororo leaned in and whispered in her friend's ear.

"What! He's hot," Jean replied in defense. "You have your man; I'm trying to get mine."

All through dinner that's how it was. Jean whispering to Logan and laughing at everything he said. When lunch was over and it was time to leave, the two of them barely seemed to notice. Ororo and Remy said their goodbyes and left the two of them immersed in each other at the table.

"I spoke with père," Remy told her on their way home from dinner.

"Yeah?"

"He's comin' up next month t' stay fo' a few days. An' he''ll be here the day o' the grand openin' of de bar. Henri, too."

"That's wonderful," she cried. Ororo stretched in her seat and kissed Remy quickly on the cheek, making a loud *muah* sound that made Remy laugh and shake his head at her.

"So how is the youngest LeBeau brother?"

"Père says he's doing well. Everyt'ings goin' great wit' The Guild. I told him we'd be back down durin' de holidays an' when school's out."

"And for Kitty and Piotr's wedding," she reminded him.

"Yeah, I fo'got dat."

She gave a good-natured roll of her eyes and settled into her seat.

"I fo'got t' ask y' at dinner…how's it goin' wit' de lil' wolf fille?"

Ororo laughed with her a shake of her head and turned to look at him. "**Rahne** is doing just fine. Actually, she's remarkable. All the students are. I can only imagine how successful and balanced they'll be when dad is through."

"Just like he balanced you, huh?"

Ororo just smiled at him and stared out the window, suddenly glancing around at the neighborhood with a light frown. "We're not going home?" she turned and asked him.

"I'm jus' gon' stop by an' let you see wha' Logan an' I did de las' few days."

"Oh. Alright, then," she smiled at him. "Let's go."

* * *

He flipped the switch and light flooded the room. Ororo's hands flew to her mouth, a surprised gasp escaping her. "Goodness, Remy! You and Logan have been doing a wonderful job!" Ororo's eyes streched nearly beyond their limits to take it all in.

"De little stage over there," he pointed towards a far corner, "dat's fo' de musicians when dey come. Got a girl called Dazzler dat's gon' be performin' here openin' night."

It was classy; almost like a hotel bar, giving it a lounge type feel. Upscale and refined. All dark woodwork and amber lighting. A forty-foot mahogany bar sitting as the focal point.

Slowly, Ororo twirled around, eyes roaming over every nook and cranny. The large room still smelled slightly of fresh paint and the gleaming, polished floor was empty of a few of the booths and tables, having not yet been installed, but the strides he'd obviously taken in preparing and organizing recently was incredible. The place had been a bit of a dive previously, but that was before Remy had gotten to it.

She chuckled, feeling his lean arms slide around her from behind, pulling her in.

"Glad y' like it, chère. Now I'm really proud."

"You should," she informed him, "And very proud at that; you and Logan both. It'll be amazing opening night, all your family there to encourage and congratulate you."

She turned with the confines of those arms and squeezed his neck in a hug. "I'm proud of you. I love you so much, and I'm _**so**_ proud of you. Just look at this, look at **us** … where we are, how things have changed." She smiled softly at him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I'm happy where we are," she murmured quietly.

He spun her around, dancing with her in place, slowly. "I kno' de feelin'. Never expected t' feel de way I do now. After Anna I wasn' sure I would. I hate t' t'ink o' where I'd be had I not listened t' Logan and père dat day dey told me t' visit yo' office."

She laughed a little. "So do I. And if I never came to New Orleans, and I had ignored what I felt for you in the beginning. If had married Jonathan. It's scary to think about."

They were quiet after that, listening to the stillness around them, intruded only by the passing of a car or the occasional honk of a horn.

"I feel like y' given everyt'ing back t' me, girl. T'ings I had lost, or never had t' begin with." His speech became more animated and Ororo beamed at him.

"That's funny," she said after her head had come to rest on his shoulder.

"What?" he asked quietly, charmed by the tenderness of the moment that had settled between them.

"That you described exactly how I feel about you … And what you've done for me."

He continued to spin them around, feeling her cool breath on his neck.

After a long moment that streched Remy spoke up, shattering the silence.

"I wan' y' t' be prepared, 'Roro . . ." he intoned gravely.

"Be prepared for what?" Ororo's head lifted, finding his eyes. He stopped them then, cradled her face in between his hands, his expression as intense as she'd ever seen it.

"Fo' me t' ask yo' t' marry me – t' be my wife."

"Oh?" she said softly, after a brief moment where she'd been stunned into silence. "I should prepare myself, should I?" She feigned calm and coolness, but inside her heart was nearly beating outside of her chest, warmth spread from her heart throughout the rest of her body at the prospect of being his wife.

"Absolutement."

"Hmm." She swallowed thickly, clearing her throat a little. "I think the real question is: Are _**you**_ prepared for _**me**_?" She arched a brow at him, her tone tinged with the makings of a challenge. Doing her best to turn the tables.

"Been preparin' since de day I met you. Fo'give me, but I feel pretty confident."

"Smug."

He laughed, drawing closer to her mouth.

"Guess dat means you'll be Mrs. Smug."

Her peel of laughter was swallowed up by his full on kiss and the clever sweep of his tongue. Before Ororo even realized what had happened, she was sitting on top of a table, the plastic sheet covering it sticking to her thighs dangling on either side of Remy.

"H-Here, Remy? !" she exclaimed weakly. Very weakly, as his hands pulling at her skirt and undergarments were making it difficult to speak.

"Yes, here," he groaned throatily.

He didn't even bother with removing all their clothes, just the parts that were essential, and before Ororo had the chance to protest again, they were joined together by one particularly deep thrust. All that was left after that was to gasp and groan.

"So—" He growled out a desperate groan and tried again, "—y'-you will . . . argh! Y' will when I ask you?"

Pants. Breathless pants. "To-To be your wife?" she managed through moaning pants, their increasing sweatiness making the plastic beneath her to stick against the skin under her thighs.

Remy pushed hard again, making her cry out. The lights in the half-furnished, soon-to-be opened lounge flickered on and off and then failed completely. Her glowing white eyes were stark and beautifully spooky in the dark.

"YES! Yes. I will—yes!"

"Love you—I love you, 'Roro!" he gritted out, his hands in a life-or-death grip on her thighs.

"I—I love you too."

When it was all over, Remy laid back on the table surface with Ororo, panting hard against her neck as he lay on chest. The pounding rain outside faltered off just as the lights flickered once, twice, and then completely, once again bathing the place in brilliant light.

"I love you, Remy," she whispered. Her hands ran along his back and into his sweat-damp hair.

"Et I vous, mon coeur. Je t'aime." _(*And I, you*)_


	41. Conclusion

**- Chapter 40 –  
**

* * *

Everyone broke out into thunderous applause as Alison Blaire – also known as "Dazzler" – finished crooning her last note. She bowed and blew kisses to the crowd, stepping down to shake hands and sign impromptu autographs on paper napkins.

"She's good," Jean said, nursing her drink.

"Yes, she's a very talented young lady," McCoy commented. "Isn't she darling?" The doctor pulled his wife close and laid a gentle kiss on her light brown cheek. She smiled at him and nodded. "Sí, muy bueno. She has a great voice," Dr. Reyes agreed.

"Eh, ain't really my style, but . . ." Logan shrugged his beefy shoulders and gulped down another mouthful of beer.

"You don't like anything Logan," Henri LeBeau piped in. "'Cept beer . . . cigars . . . hockey, am I missing something?"

Logan snickered. "And the ladies." He brought a burly arm around Jean and drew her in. "Don't forget the ladies."

Jean giggled and Henri rolled his eyes. "Ay, where's my hot-shot brother anyway?" he asked, glancing around.

"Over there with 'Ro talkin' to yer dad." Logan gestured to a spot near the stage with his beer where Remy and Ororo appeared to be in a conversation with Jean-Luc LeBeau.

"Yeah, I see him. I'm trying to see if he'll introduce me to that Dazzler chick. She's hot."

"Well, there's your chance. She's over there near Remy and them now."

Henri cleared his throat and smoothed back his hair, slightly lighter in color than his brother's. "Excuse me, my friends. Time for me to get hooked up."

"Go get 'em, Tiger." Logan gave him a hearty pat on the back. The four of them chuckled as they watched Henri slip through the crowd.

"Yes, you should have dinner with us tomorrow," Ororo was saying to Jean-Luc. "I know my father would love to meet you, and Henri."

"Speak of the devil," Remy muttered under his breath, tracking his brother's fast approach.

"I think I'll take you up on that invation, Ororo. I think I'd like to meet the great Charles Xavier too."

Ororo smiled. "Good! That would be wonderful!"

"Hey, family!" Henri exclaimed, coming up behind Ororo and Jean-Luc and throwing his arms around their shoulders. "How's it goin'?"

Remy rolled his eyes at his brother, flinging his arms off of Ororo. The younger brother just shrugged at Remy and grinned. "I came over here because I was hoping my favorite brother could introduce me to that beautiful femme over there." He jerked his chin in the direction of the pretty singer, who stood nearby still chatting with fans.

"Alison?"

"That's her name?" Henri stared at her. She glanced in his direction while speaking to a young couple. She caught him staring and gave him a quick wink.

"Didja see that, mon frère? She winked at me!"

"Then go talk to her, garcon," the oldest LeBeau man encouraged.

"R-Really?" he questioned, still unsure of himself.

"She's looking your way," Ororo said to him.

Henri glanced up. Indeed, the young songstress was staring his way. She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulders and tossed him a small wave.

"Matter-of-fact, I think I will," Henri said. "Hold this." He made his father hold his drink and make his way over towards the singer.

* * *

The night wasn't even half-way over and the bar was already packed. Ororo glanced around proudly. All their friends from New Orleans had made the trip to Westchester to celebrate Remy's big day. Piotr, Kitty, even Scott and Emma had made an appearance, though both couples had had to leave shortly after. Ororo's father and Moira had arrived late, but still came in a show of support, praising Remy on a successful opening day. Ororo searched the large crowd for the handsome Cajun, figuring someone had him crowded off somewhere, congratulating him on a job well-done, but he was nowhere to be found.

She was just about to ask someone at the table where he was when she heard him clearing his throat over the microphone and asking everyone for their attention.

Everyone turned towards the man on the stage and began to quiet down. Ororo grinned, slightly curious, eyes narrowed. What was Remy doing?

"First, I'd like t' t'ank all o' y' fo' comin' t' celebrate de gran' openin' of The Ace. 'Specially my friends an' family who came all de way up here from N'awlens. I 'preciate it, an' I'm glad y' all were here t' share dis wit' me. If y' ever in N'awlins, be sure t' stop by The Guild, run by my brother, Henri LeBeau."

The spotlight overhead shone down on the table where Moira, Xavier, Jean, Logan, Hank and his wife, Ororo, and the LeBeau's all sat. The patrons surrounding clapped and whistled admiringly. Henri stood up and took a bow. Jean-Luc tugged on his arm, and pulled him back into his seat.

"Special t'anks t' mon ami, my friend, Logan fo' all his help wit' de place. Even if he did complain de whole time."

The crowd laughed. Logan raised his beer in salute.

"But now comes de most impo'tant part of de night. 'Roro would y' please come up here?"

Ororo's mouth fell open in surprise. All at once, it seemed as if every pair of eyes in the building were on her as she stood on shaky legs, smoothing her hands down her dress. Ororo grinned nervously as the crow parted for her, automatically clearing her path to the stage where Remy stood waiting, looking handsome in his silk shirt and dark slacks. She could hear her friends and family back at the table, hooting and hollering behind her. The glaring spotlight hovered above her, following her with every step. She marched up the brief set of stairs that led to the stage, careful in her high heels, and grabbed Remy's outstretched hand – a look on his face she'd never seen before. A mixture of joy, nervousness, and something else, something precious and tender and warm. Whatever it was sparkled in his eyes and grew brighter as she approached.

Remy's fingers closed around Ororo's, and he drew her to him, the microphone still in hand. Ororo came, slightly hesitant.

"Remy, what is this?" she asked, her voice unsteady, tremulous.

"Now, de last time somet'ing like dis happened t' y' it was a disaster, so I t'ought dis time, I'm gon' make sure it's right."

Remy's heart felt ready to burst out of his chest. The organ seemed to beat 1000 times per minute, and his palms were already beginning to perspire.

"Ladies an' gentlemen," he announced into the microphone. "On dis special day, here in front o' you – friends an' family – I wanted y' t' bear witness t' what will be de definin' moment o' my life . . . Dat is if de femme says yes."

The crowd laughed as he put back the mic. Then he gently lowered himself to the stage on one bended knee and the laughter turned to loud gasps. Ororo's eyes widened impossibly and the din of the crowd rose in pitch, echoing various gasps and shouts of surprise.

"De last time dis happened, I was watchin' from afar, wishin' I was de one askin' fo' yo' hand. I didn' kno' later dat I'd get my wish, chère. An' now I am de one askin', beggin' fo' yo' hand."

Ororo's lip trembled.

"I love you, chèrie; I always will. An I kno' you love me. So I'm askin' you – in front o' all dese people: Ororo Munroe, will y' be my wife?"

He reached down into one of his pockets, still gripping her hands, and withdrew a box, snapping it open to present a diamond ring.

"Will y' marry me?" Remy gulped hard, surprised he'd even been able to get the words out.

Rapidly, large tears fell from Ororo's face as she dropped to her knees, bringing his hands up to her lips, and kissed them softly.

"Remy . . . o-of course I will. Oh, beloved, I want nothing more than to be your wife." She choked out a sound that sounded something between a sob and a cry of laughter before joining her wet lips to his amid a thunderous roar of applause and clapping. Whistles, and woo-hoos, filling the atmosphere.

Remy grabbed her face planting desperate kisses everywhere his lips could land before lifting her hand to his lips, kissing her bare ring finger before sliding it on deftly, watching the ornament catch the lights overhead and sparkle brightly, reflecting on her beautiful face, luminously complimenting the glowing smile shaping her mouth.

"Woo-hoo! Go Ororo!" Jean Grey cheered, crying tears of joy on behalf of her best friend.

Logan clapped loudly, shouting, "Atta boy!" at Remy, giving him a thumbs up.

Moira hugged Charles, both of them smiling proudly at the newly engaged couple. Moira wiped a tear from her eye with her finger. Charles squeezed her hand affectionately, raising a glass in behalf of his two children – his daughter and his new son-in-law. Jean-Luc stood clapping, beaming with pride at his oldest boy. He caught Remy's eye and winked. Remy winked back, still clutching Ororo at his side, forever glad that his father had convinced him to make that faithful trip to Valhalla that fortuitous day.

Remy held Ororo's hand, both of them bowing and waving at the boisterous throng.

"I love you, Ororo Munroe-LeBeau," he leaned in and whispered in her ear. Ororo turned and entwined her fingers in his hair, breathing against her soon-to-be husband's lips, tears still slipping down her face.

"And I love you, Remy. I love you."

**END.**


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